Brooklyn in Manhattan
by AppleMelody
Summary: Raphael comes across a girl who is as protective of her family as he is of his own. Only her story, even though she is a normal human, is far more tragic. An unlikely encounter, quick reflexes, and an accent-based nickname all lead to the Turtles having a new ally. And this ally will soon need their support. NO ROMANCE, aside from a bit of Casey x April. NO PROMISES TO FINISH
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **

**Just because the summary box is so tiny, I'll say this here. First off, thanks for picking my story, hope you like it.**

**I make no promises to finish this story, and as far as an 'actual story arc' this story is more just, 'lets see where things go'. The chapter names aren't so much names as references to when the chapter is set****; specifically, after certain 2003 show episodes.**

**I have not had the pleasure to read more than the first few issues of the original Mirage Comics, I cannot stand the 1987 show, but the 2012 one isn't too bad. I have also watched the 2007 CGI film (loved it) but my favourite incarnation is the 2003 show. **

**In short, there may be a few references (you never know). But there will be _NO NON-CANON PAIRINGS_. Personally, I can't stand OC ships (they're a little weird to me, considering they're _turtles_, but whatever floats your boat) and though Raphael is more prominent than the others, the main female character and him are not, nor ever will be, romantically involved. The main female character is not an 'OC' _as such_, as she is not a representation of me in the TMNT world, so much as a fictional (you know what I mean) character.  
**

**Any mention of Japanese culture and weaponry comes from some quick research, so I apologise for any errors, though I'm pretty confident it's accurate.  
**

**Also, chapter lengths will vary a great deal, depending on the 'time'.**

**Enjoy :D**

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**Prologue – After "City of War: Part 3"**

* * *

Raphael, as ever, was doubtful. He wouldn't trust anyone easily, and was by far the harshest of his brothers. He trusted Karai about as far as he could throw her – and yes, in theory he would be able to throw her very far, but first he would have to pick her up, and she would have to comply to being thrown for that to happen – in short, he didn't trust Oroku Karai _at all_. She would break her vow, it was only a matter of time.

So he was scouting.

He was sat on a tallish building across from the old Foot training compound, a large warehouse that the Foot now used for trading. Weapons mostly. Raphael wasn't sure what he would find, nor if he would find anything, but he wanted to keep an eye on the Foot. And so far, they seemed pretty normal. Well, as normal as a centuries-old-clan of New York ninjas can get. It had been three hours, and the most exciting thing to happen was that a streetlamp went out. That had been twenty minutes ago.

He was just considering turning back and going home when he heard a noise.

It was a crash. A large resounding sound that set dogs barking and ears ringing. Raphael looked around from his position on top of the building, and saw a black figure running over the streets. They were as light as swift as any of him and his brothers, and clearly making a name for themselves in the Foot, as the next sound was a harsh cry of "_Stop the escapee_!"

A cry from Hun, no less. This person, whoever they were, meant business. He wondered what Hun meant by 'escapee' it sounded like that person had been a prisoner of the Foot.

The figure – the _escapee_ – carried on running until they reached the alley. The alley directly between the building Raphael was perched upon, and another one. The figure pulled something from their belt, something small, sharp and metal. There was a 'whizz' and a 'clang'. Suddenly, the streetlamp in the alley fizzled out. It had been a shuriken.

_That explains the streetlamp earlier._ Raphael thought to himself. He could hear their heavy breathing from the roof, and his curiosity, as well as a strange protectiveness, was piqued. He still didn't trust or like the Foot, even after Karai's vow of peace. He considered an enemy of the Foot, an ally of him.

In a rough sense. I mean, the Mob were an enemy of the Foot too, but this person did not look like a member of the Mob – the Mob dressed loudly and brightly. If anything, they looked a little like a ninja. It was probably all the black. So, Raphael climbed down the side of the building, until he was perched on the fire escape, a floor or two above the mystery person.

The fire escape made the tiniest noise of resentment when Raphael landed on it. So quiet that he barely heard it himself.

But the mystery person heard it, clear as day.

"Who's there?" came a voice from their direction. It was then that Raphael nearly fell off of the structure in surprise. This person...was a girl.

Even though it was dark in the alley, it wasn't pitch black, and the moon was shining. And, being a ninja, he had to be able to see in the dark anyway. In short, Raphael could see her quite clearly. She wore a black hoodie and a pair of black fingerless gloves. Her jeans were a dark blue denim and her shoes were black trainers, made for running long distances. The hood on her hoodie was up, all he could see was the lower half of a pale face, and a mouth. Around her waist was a brown weapons belt, with three loops for weapons and a small pouch. Two loops were empty, and one had a small dagger in it. The pouch was open, and something metal glinted inside it – most probably more shuriken.

"I _said_, who's there?" the girl repeated menacingly, "Don't think I didn't notice you earlier – you were watching me from the roof. Now show yourself!"

"Hey, easy there," Raphael replied, "I'm not here to hurt you. I was just...passing by."

"Right." Said the girl, unconvinced, "Care to face me properly, Brooklyn?" she asked, referring to Raphael by his accent,

"I would, but I don't wanna scare you." He said truthfully,

"And why would you scare me?" she inquired, then, "You're not a Foot, are you?" she asked suspiciously

"No," he replied, "No, I'm practically number one on their hit list...well, me and my brothers, anyway."

"Then why won't you show yourself?" she asked,

"Well...I don't exactly look normal." He said, "Trust me, I don't got a pretty face. And besides, you've got that hood up, don't you?"

The girl sighed, accepting the fact that he just wasn't going to step out of the shadows. There was a pause. "Do you know who the Shredder is?" she asked,

Raphael was confused. The only people who really knew _of_ the Shredder tended to be a Foot, a Purple Dragon or a Mob member. The girl definitely wasn't a Foot, and didn't look like a Mob member either...

"Are you a Purple Dragon?" he asked,

The girl laughed harshly, "No." she said, "As if I would ally with those dishonourable eejits."

"Eejits?" Raphael asked. The girl definitely wasn't a New Yorker, judging by the accent, but that word didn't even sound English.

"Idiot." She said, "It means idiot...you eejit." She added under her breath,

"Hey!" Raphael said, a little louder than he intended to. The Foot patrol turned sharply upwards towards the noise. Raphael heard the girl mutter something. By the way she said it, it sounded like a curse; but once again, the word didn't even sound _English_.

"Oh, _you're _a stealthy one, aren't you?" the girl asked him sarcastically. She pushed herself deeper into the shadows, "Thanks a lot, Brooklyn." She said angrily. She rummaged in the shadows, and picked up a black duffel bag. Raphael watched curiously as she made her way to the fire escape he was perched upon, with the black bag slung over her shoulder.

She grabbed the bottom rung and pulled herself up as quietly as possible. Her hand brushed his shoulder, and he jerked away instinctively. Unfortunately, the girl was wearing gloves, and hadn't noticed that she had touched something alive. So when she made to grab it and pull herself up, she found nothing.

Raphael's body reacted quicker than his mind. One second, something touched his shoulder. The next, he heard a badly-hushed exclamation of surprise, and his hand was around the girl's wrist.

"Thanks." She said in a surprised tone,

"No problem." Raphael replied, smiling crookedly at her. He pulled her up onto the fire escape. Her hood had fallen back, and she pulled it up quickly before Raphael got a decent look at her face. What he _did_ see was that she had red hair.

"Sorry, about that." She said, "I thought you were part of the escape."

"It looks like I am now," Raphael said, not meaning the structure, but the action itself, "I ain't any more welcome to the Foot than you are, so it looks like I've gotta scram too."

The girl chuckled softly, and jumped, grabbing onto the next level of the escape. The Foot, thankfully, hadn't heard anything, and had not closed in on them. Yet. Raphael and the girl made their way to the top of the building as silently as possible. Within seconds, they were on the roof.

"Wow, you're not so bad at climbing, Brooklyn." The girl said, impressed,

"Years of training." Raphael replied, glad it was too dark for her to see him properly. She would no doubt freak. "Why were you in there, anyway?"

She chuckled, "If I told you, I doubt you'd believe me."

Then it was Raphael's turn to chuckle, "Anything you saw in there, it's not half as crazy as what _I've _seen. Trust me."

He _felt_ rather than saw the girl's smile, "I do." She said softly, with an air of musing. "I don't even know your name, and yet I practically entrusted you with my life."

"If it makes you feel any better, I kinda did the same with you." He replied, knowing that, if the Foot had caught _him_, he wouldn't exactly be a free turtle right now.

"A little." She replied,

"So, spill." He pressed, "Why were you in the old Foot training compound? And how do you know about the Shredder?"

The girl sighed, "I was hoping that one of them had...information. Information regarding the Shredder." She said, "But I was wrong, they were only the pawns. All they knew was to capture me on sight."

"Why's that?" he asked,

"I've caused the Shredder a _lot_ of trouble." She said, "I heard the one really big guy with a ponytail say I was – quote – 'as much trouble as those turtles', whatever the hell that means." She didn't know it, but she was talking about Raphael. Raphael and his brothers.

"I'll tell you what it means," Raphael said, "It means you just made yourself an ally."

The girl's silhouette cocked her head in confusion, "What?"

He extended a hand. Not so much that he was in the moonlight but just enough for the girl to see it. "Let's just say, I'm no more a friend to the Foot than you are." And in his mind, this was true. Karai's vow meant nothing to him. He knew it was only a matter of time before she broke it.

The girl took his hand, "Thanks." She said, and there was a pause, "Are you wearing a rubber glove?" she asked. He wasn't, but he expected that that was what his skin must feel like. Frankly, there were worse things to be called. More than once April had complained that him and his brothers stank – but that was probably more due to the location of their residence, rather than their species.

"Er, no." he said, "No I'm not."

"You should really see a doctor then, Brooklyn." She joked,

"Actually, I think a vet might be more use to me." Raphael joked back, speaking before his thought.

"What?" the girl asked, "A vet...?" she paused, and Raphael could practically _see_ the cogs in her brain turning as she deduced the truth. Before she could exclaim, he spoke again.

"Just a joke." He said, "My brothers sometimes tell me that, with my temper, I'm practically a wild animal."

The girl chuckled, "God help the man that pisses _you_ off." She said. She hoisted her duffel bag up on her shoulder once more.

"Thanks for helping me get out of there, Brooklyn." She said, smiling.

And down the building's other fire escape she went, vanishing into the shadows as easily as any turtle could.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – After "The Golden Puck"**

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Three weeks. _Three weeks. _No sign of the Foot...they were planning something, but what? The turtles were on high alert, and rightly so – _something_ was up (then again, when was that _not_ the case?) – question was, what was their plan? The time it took for Leonardo and his brothers to answer this question could be the difference between life and death...on an intergalactic level.

Ever the least trusting and most suspicious of his brothers, Raphael was still scouting the Foot compound whenever he could. After another five hours of _nothing_ (not even a broken street lamp) he was heading home, and looking for a decent manhole cover – preferably _not_ one in the middle of the road. He'd already nearly been run over twice (one car had sped on, oblivious to the fact that it had nearly hit him. The other had had a group of drunk teenagers inside, yelling that it wasn't Hallowe'en). So far all of the alleys Raphael had come across had had a couple homeless people scrounging around in the bins – and he couldn't risk being seen. Raphael often wondered why there were still homeless people _in_ New York; after all, now there was Garbage Island, where most of them had emigrated quite happily.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry.

"_Hii-yah_!" the cry of a ninja. And then the thud of something soft – most likely a person – hitting the floor. Raphael rounded a corner, and was met by a small fleet of Foot ninja.

There must have been at least twenty, all of which pouncing on a single opponent. All he could see were flashes of a red Foot Clan symbol, the glint of silver weapons, and lots of black. No purple – so it wasn't a Dragon – and no horrible, garish colours in general – it wasn't someone from the Mob. The City was still at war with itself, and fights were not uncommon. But a fight like this, the Foot against someone who wasn't a Dragon or a Mob member...this was rare.

And _far_ too interesting for Raphael to pass up. Whilst he preferred to be _in_ the fight, he found that sometimes (usually when he was tired) watching was just as entertaining.

This opponent, whoever they were, had done an excellent job of the Foot. Of the ninja fleet, at least ten were unconscious, strewn about the floor, their weapons by their sides.

After a few seconds of watching, a shuriken whizzed past Raphael, embedding itself in the stone wall beside him. One glance revealed that it was streaked with blood, and he turned back to the battle just in time to see two Foot fall over, each of them clutching their right shoulders with their left hands – the throwing star had cut them on the shoulders, causing them to drop their weapons, and their opponent to deal a swift kick to each of their torsos.

"_Someone get her!_" roared one of the soldiers, clearly the leader of the group. He pointed to the figure that had just landed on the floor again, and Raphael could hardly believe his eyes.

It was the girl.

He didn't notice at first, because her hood was down. She was moving too quickly for him to really take in detail. What he _did _see was that she had red hair, and she was wearing a mask – similar to his own, except it was black (like the rest of her clothing), and didn't have long tails. In her right hand she held (to Raphael's immense surprise) a sai, in her left, two shuriken. She threw them, each coming into contact with a Foot's cheek. She jumped up, kicking one of the soldiers in the head, and slamming the butt of her sai onto the other's temple. The both fell over.

"Catch me if you can." She grinned at the leader. Spinning her sai in her hand, mind-bogglingly similar to how Raphael sometimes did.

The Foot leader clenched his jaw, "We _will_ bring you back to our Master, escapee!" he said, and turned to his men, "_Hajime_!" he cried, pointing at her. Raphael knew that chant, it was the signal to start an attack – Master Splinter used it in training.

Five Foot advanced on the girl. Three were holding katana, the others were holding bō staffs. The girl lashed out, catching one soldier in the chest with her sai (slitting only his chest armour) her left fist finding the jaw of a second, and her right foot finding a third. But exhaustion must have taken hold, and the stress of multiple attacks leaving her panicky and unorganised. As a result, only one of them was knocked unconscious – the one who had been hit by her fist. She was slipping, Raphael realised – how long had she been fighting?

The girl's jaw was set in determination, but in her eyes, Raphael saw panic. He knew what it was because he had seen it in his own eyes. His mind wandered to a fleeting reflection in metal when battling the Shredder...a glimpse in April's mirror when Leonardo had crashed through her window, barely alive...a rooftop, that had promised to have Splinter resting on it, empty, save for his walking stick...

"You'll have to do better than that, little girl." The Foot leader smirked, drawing Raphael's attention back to the battle. Four Foot soldiers continued to advance upon her.

"My name's not little girl!" she cried, throwing another star at the leader. Raphael knew before the leader moved that it would not hit him – her throw was panicked and badly aimed (though the fact that four Foot were advancing on her made it understandable).

Raphael had to move to dodge the shuriken too – he had been standing more or less behind the Foot leader, but in the shadows. The girl's gaze followed her throwing star desperately – she seemed to have known it wouldn't find its mark either – and then, her gaze met Raphael's.

Confusion and surprise.

That was what Raphael saw in the girl's eyes once she noticed him. The surprise of seeing someone else in the fray, and the confusion of why he was there, who he was. From the glint in her eyes, he reckoned that she thought he was another Foot.

And these thoughts very nearly became her undoing. Using her distraction as a weapon against her, the four Foot that were advancing on her grabbed her limbs, forcing the weapons from her grasp, pushing her to her knees before the Foot leader. Two of them bound her hands with rope whilst two others kept a firm grip on her shoulders.

"You have been a thorn in our Master's side for too long, little girl." He told her, as one of his henchmen handed him a tantō. He smiled grimly, "In fact, he said that if you were too difficult to..._obtain_, that we should simply cut out the middle man and sort you out ourselves. I would say that it is time we put an end to your interfering. _Permanently_."

When the leader said this, the world stopped. Raphael was as protective as he was suspicious. It didn't matter that he had only met her once before, that she was pretty much a stranger, that he knew nothing about her aside from the language she spoke and the colour of her hair. He saw a young girl, being beaten and overpowered by the one thing they shared.

A common enemy.

The girl had raised her head, and was looking at the Foot leader. She met him with a glare, and muttered something to him – Raphael didn't catch what she said – the Foot leader laughed. The girl merely glared as she bowed her head once more, accepting her fate.

But as she did this, her eyes once more met Raphael's. Now he saw begging in them. She seemed to have realised that he wasn't a Foot, but an _enemy_ of the Foot. An enemy that needed to stay hidden in order to survive. Her eyes seemed to ask, _what're you gonna do? Risk your life? Or sacrifice mine?_

Raphael heard a voice in his head. _He who lives without honour, shall die without honour. _Master Yoshi's final words.

"_YAME_!" Raphael roared. It was the world Splinter use once training was over; a command to cease. After the Foot leader's cry of '_hajime_' it had seemed appropriate (and far better than Mikey's 'cowabunga' or Casey's 'goongala')

Surprised, the Foot leader stopped, and turned. His eyes widened upon seeing Raphael standing there. Or rather, the vague outline of some humanoid creature.

"Foot ninja!" he cried, "Seize him! Seize the witness!"

The remaining five Foot began to advance on him. Raphael chuckled,

"Five?" he asked, addressing the Foot leader and his opponents. "That's hardly a fair fight." He smiled wickedly, "For you."

And, despite the situation she was in, he swore he saw the girl suppress a chuckle.

Within seconds, all five of the soldiers were at his feet, unconscious. He turned to the Foot who were still holding the girl. Raphael's ninja training meant that he was still in the shadows, he always had been. Now his vague silhouette turned to the Foot leader.

"Let go of the girl, and no one gets hurt." He said, assuming a battle stance, raising his own sai. It glinted in the half light, emphasising the sharp, slim blade. The girl's figure changed slightly, a small twitch of recognition as she heard a familiar voice. She seemed to relax a little, now knowing that she was not alone.

"You three!" the Foot leader said, "Get him!"

Three of the Foot soldiers released their hold upon girl. The fourth, still holding onto her, went to move behind her and grab her other forearm, but he was too slow.

She jumped to her feet, leaping in the air, using the Foot soldier behind her as a wall. She shoved her feet into the Foot leader's chest. Then she landed, and cracked her skull against the ninja-behind-her's forehead. The soldier leapt back, groaning in pain. The girl dropped to the floor, pivoting on two hands and one foot, swinging her other leg around, sweeping the Foot's legs out from under him, sending him to the floor with the Foot leader.

Then she jumped again, pulling her legs up to her chest and swinging her bound hands underneath them, so her arms were now in front of her. She seemed to raise her bounds arms to her face, and bite into her right forearm. Raphael watched as she pulled a shuriken from a concealed pocket. She spat it into the air and held out her arms for the throwing star to whizz between her wrists, slicing the rope and burying itself in the ground. She touched a hand to her mouth, and a finger came away red, she seemed to have cut her tongue. She muttered under her breath, "Untrained...practise...fifth time..."

She glanced at Raphael as she retrieved her shuriken from the ground, "Thanks, Brooklyn" She said to him, smiling. Then she kicked up her sai, catching them. Raphael saw now that they were remarkably similar to his own – bar the hilts. Whereas his sai were hilted with red fabric, hers were hilted with black fabric that was decorated with Japanese letters. But his Japanese was not good enough to translate them from this distance this quickly.

Shoving one sai into her belt, the other grasped firmly in her right hand, the girl used her left forearm to pin the Foot leader to the alley wall.

"You work for the Shredder, don't you?" she asked him icily,

"Yes." The soldier replied, and struggled slightly. All he got was a swift knee-kick to the groin, and Raphael, despite himself, winced at the cry that escaped the Foot leader's mouth.

"Did you ever help capture test subjects?" she continued,

"Test subjects?" he asked, "What test subjects?"

The girl raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Unfortunately," she said, "I don't have any truth serum with me." She lowered her sai, so it was pointing at his abdomen, "So you're going to tell the truth, or go through a partial sex-change, okay?" she growled,

The Foot leader nodded nervously.

"Good." The girl scowled at him, "Now..." she began, "Have you ever captured civilians on the Shredder's orders?" she asked him, her tone deadly,

The Foot ninja shook his head. The girl moved her sai closer to his torso, and the Foot ninja shook his head profusely.

"Did you ever take part in experiments? Experiments in genetic mutation?" she asked, her voice loud and harsh, "_Did you ever take part?_" she shouted when he didn't answer immediately,

"Genetic mutation?" the Foot asked, "What are you talking about? You're insane!"

The girl sighed, but her face was hard, her jaw set. "And _you're_ useless." She declared, knee-kicking him in the crotch and shoving the end of her fist (and the butt of her sai) into his temple. He keeled over, unconscious.

It was only after this, that she acknowledged the fact that Raphael was still standing there. He had been watching her interrogation, eight unconscious Foot ninja at his feet.

"You okay?" he asked, stepping forward to pick up and sheath his own sai.

"Yeah, I reckon so. How abo-" The girl stopped as she turned and looked at him, her face blank.

"_Brooklyn_?" she asked, her jaw slack with shock. And suddenly Raphael realised that he was standing in the sunlight. If the girl knew the Shredder, and Hun, and had heard of him and his brothers, it was only a matter of time before she discovered that he was who he was. But knowing _of_ him and his brothers was very different to actually _seeing _them. Now he was out in the light. Now she could see him, green skin, red mask, sai at his belt, shell. The whole lot.

"Er, yeah." He said, "This was what I meant when I said I don't got a pretty face." He half smiled.

There was a long pause. She was poised like a fox, sizing up the situation. Raphael began to panic. Would she scream? Make a run for it? And if she did, would it be to the police? The papers?

In all fairness, she probably would have stayed still had Raphael _asked _her to, and not started towards her, hands outstretched in way that (to him would have been a sign of submission) looked like he was grabbing at her.

That was all she needed. She pulled up her hood and was off like a shot, scaling the alley's wall as well (and as fast) as Raphael could've.

"HEY!" he yelled, running to try and catch her, "YO, STOP!"

She was already scaling a second wall once Raphael had jumped the first. He followed her over it, and only just managed to catch a glimpse of silver metal as she turned a corner. He followed her down another alley, where she was climbing another wall.

"Oh, no you don't!" he cried, running forward and grabbing her ankle. "I ain't gonna hurt you." he said.

To his surprise, she turned and looked at him. He let go of her ankle and stepped back.

"I ain't gonna hurt you." Raphael repeated.

After a pause, she jumped down from the wall she had been climbing. Then she narrowed her eyes, and assumed a battle stance. Before Raphael could say or do anything, both sai were missing from her belt, embedded in the building behind him, pinning his arms to the wall.

"What're you doing, you lunatic?" he shouted, "I just saved your life!"

"I know." She said, "That's why I haven't harmed you." She sighed, "I'm in your debt."

"You have a funny way of showing gratitude," he muttered angrily, _what happened to the girl I was talking to not five minutes ago?_ He thought, "Why did you pin me to the wall?" he asked her,

"I need to know why you're still following me." She said,

"I'm not, I was out and about, and I found the Foot attacking you."

She seemed unconvinced, "What's to say that you aren't working for the Foot in secret? I mean, seriously, what are the odds that you happen to stumble upon a Foot attack that was sprung on me, just days after you've _met_ me?"

He looked at her, "Are you kidding me?" he asked, "Are you freaking kidding me?" he sighed, "You watch too much TV, kid. Undercover spies aren't real."

"One – don't call me kid. Two – I'm not being exaggerative. Three – said the _talking anthropomorphic turtle." _She said dryly,

"Oh really?" Raphael asked sarcastically. If his hands had been free he would have crossed his arms. "Well, then, how many undercover spies _have_ you come across?"

"Just one." She said, and Raphael scoffed.

"And who was that?" he asked, not entirely sure if the question was rhetorical or not. He _did_, however, want to know who this spy was.

"My so-called _friend_, Tony." She told him, and her tone was bitter, "He was the only person who knew the truth about why the Foot were hunting me." She sighed, "After their first attempt at capturing me, I 'disappeared', using Tony as an informant. After a few months, I discovered that Tony was a Foot in disguise, and was feeding them information about me. Where I was, when I'd be there, that sort of thing."

Though appalled by this 'Tony'-s actions. (_That is sick, dude! How could you sell out your friend?_ he thought) Raphael recovered quickly,

"Then why ain't you questioning _him_?" he asked, as always, overly-defensive, "_He_ sounds like a reliable source of intel." he struggled against the weapons pinning him down, but there was no way he was getting out without slicing his wrists open. He needed his own sai to get free, and she had pulled them from his belt.

However, she _had_ been decent enough to simply place them on the far side of the alley; away from everyone, human, or turtle; rather than use them against him, or throw them carelessly away. She seemed to share his love and respect for weapons. It was the height of rudeness to use someone's weapons against them or without their permission.

"Once I found out Tony was a spy, I stopped talking to him." She said,

"Really?" Raphael asked, "You didn't kill him? You just pinned me to the wall for helping you! And those Foot aren't gonna be walking around any time soon_._"

"I was fourteen at the time." She told him, "Believe it or not, I wasn't always as...drastic as I am now." She replied, "Time makes people desperate." She told him, in an exhausted sort of way, "It had only been a few months, so I just stopped talking to him. Because of that, Tony wasn't useful to them anymore, so they killed him."

_Yikes_. Thought Raphael, but he didn't expect anything less from the Shredder and his henchmen. He was pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of pressure leaving his wrists. The girl had pulled her sai from the wall, freeing him.

"So," the girl continued, considerably more good-naturedly. Her tone was sunny, but she seemed to be forcing herself to smile. It was obvious that her own story – whatever it was – pained her. "Say I buy your 'happy accident' story. Why _are_ you here?"

"Honestly, I was going home after visiting a friend." And it was half true. He had stopped by April's shop just before his little scouting mission.

She looked at him incredulously, and opened her mouth to ask a question – most likely "A friend? A _human_ friend?"– but before she could speak, she swore and threw herself to the ground. It wasn't in English, but Raphael could tell a curse when he heard one.

Raphael looked at her, confused, "Wha-?" his question was cut short as a throwing star whizzed by his head. It missed, embedding itself in the wall, not too far from a first, clearly aimed at the girl. A Foot ninja was standing there, another shuriken in each hand. There was a lump rising on his forehead, and he was walking with a slight limp – he was one of the soldiers from earlier.

"They're waking up!" Raphael cried, "We gotta go!"

The girl was not paying attention. She had run at the soldier. He threw a weak punch, the girl took it. Then she drove a fist into his jaw and he slumped to the ground. She wiped her hand across her mouth. Though weak, the punch had split her lip.

"We should get out of here." Raphael said, "Where do you live?"

The girl turned to him, "Not five minutes ago you looked angry enough to kill me." She said, "And now you want to _walk me home_?"

"Look, you're a bit of a hot-head," he said, thinking of how she had threatened to castrate a man, and kneed him in the groin, "and I get it." he continued, "Shell, _I'm_ the hot-head of my family –"

"Never would have guessed _that_."

"– but being a hot-head don't mean that you're a bad person, or that you ain't worth protecting." He finished, thinking both of Casey, and himself.

The girl sighed, "Look, Brooklyn," she said, "I appreciate the help with the Foot. Really, I do. But I don't need a chaperone."

Raphael paused, and looked at her. As part of his ninja training, he had to be able to read people. She was sincere in her thank you, but something about the chaperone part...her home maybe? He didn't know exactly where, but there was a lie here.

The penny dropped, "You sleep on the streets, don't you?" he said in disbelief. It was more a statement than a question.

The girl looked at him, "How did you know that?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, "Have you been tailing me?"

"What? No!" he exclaimed, "I could just...tell."

"Hmm." She replied, seeming to buy it, "Yes, I'm homeless. I sleep rough, whatever. What's it to you?"

"Why're you sleeping rough? Your old home no good?"

The girl laughed bitterly, "The entirety of what could possibly be the most formidable ninja force in the _world_ has me on their 'to do' list, and you're wondering why I sleep on the streets?"

"Well, yeah." He said, "But don't you have a friend or something to stay with?"

From the way the girl shook her head, he knew it was a subject best left untouched. He sighed, _I cannot believe I'm gonna say this, but..._

"You could stay with me and my brothers." He said, she looked at him,

"Seriously?" she said, "Once again, five minutes ago, you looked ready to kill me."

"That was then, this is now." He told her,

"Well, _you're _certainly one of those 'live in the moment' guys." She said dryly, but she smiled nonetheless, "Thanks, but I'm good. Really."

"I'm serious." He pressed, "What about the Foot?" he asked, "And the Purple Dragons? And the general drunk bums looking to score?"

She laughed, a high, clear, light sound. The sound of a teenage girl. That was the only thing about her that gave clue to her real age. In truth, she was more like Raphael and his brothers than he cared to admit. Their training and living 'under the radar' had given them the mindsets and attitudes of humans far beyond their years (with the exception of Mikey – being the youngest, he didn't have to stress about such things), but in truth, they _were_ teenagers. This girl was the same. Whatever it was that had put her on the streets, on the Foot's hit list, it was because of a burden that no child should have to carry.

But she carried it. As did Raphael. As did Leonardo. And Donatello. And Michelangelo.

The girl tried to stop her laughing and spoke, "You've seen me fight, and you reckon I can't take on a couple of drunks?" she laughed again. "I should be offended."

"Okay, fair point," Raphael admitted, "But what if they jump you while you're sleeping?"

In response, she looked down at herself, "Why do you think I wear black?" she asked him.

"_Touche_." He replied, somewhat grumpy again,

"Okay, so you were walking home, and happened to pass the fight?" the girl said,

"Yup." He answered, "I ain't an undercover Foot, I ain't a Tony. So you can chill." He said,

The girl smiled slightly, "Where's 'home'?" she asked, testing him.

"NYC sewers." He said, completely frankly. And why wouldn't he? It was the truth.

The girl, however, seemed skeptical. "The sewers?" she said, "I know there are some wack things in this world – hell, I reckon I've seen more than most ever will – but giant turtles in the sewers? No way. Crocodiles, sure, _maybe_. But turtles?"

Raphael decided against telling her of Leatherhead, and instead asked, "You want wack? There's four of us." He told her, and paused, "Turtles at least." He clarified, "Me and my three brothers."

"There are _more_ of you?" she exclaimed, "But...but...how do you go unnoticed?" she asked,

Raphael's grin turned slightly nervous, "Because the whole turtle thing ain't the weirdest part."

"What _is_ the weirdest part?" she asked. All fear and concern had left her stance and tone. She was talking to him as comfortably as April did.

"I'm a ninja." He said, "In training at least."

"Whoa..." the girl repeated,

"And by the by," he added, "Technically, I'm a _mutant _turtle."

There was a long pause, "Wow, you...you don't do thing by halves, do you, Brooklyn?" she said, smiling and leaning against one of the large dumpsters. She was taking this remarkably well.

"There's another thing," Raphael continued, "My proper name is Raphael."

"Raphael?" she asked, and he nodded. Now he_ knew _she wasn't from around here. The way she pronounced his name, she wasn't from the US. That was certain. "You don't _look_ Italian." She said, then chuckled, "Though, in fairness, you don't look _human_ either."

The corner of Raphael's mouth twitched up in a smile. "I'm not Italian. My...dad...he just liked the name."

"So, 'Raphael' like...the archangel?"

"The what-now?" he asked, completely baffled,

The girl rolled her eyes, "Okay, so _no_." she paused, "Like the renaissance guy?" she offered,

"Yeah, the renaissance guy." He confirmed, "Most people just call me Raph." He added and then, "What do I call you?"

The girl's figure stiffened, "It doesn't matter." She said, "Trust me, you're a lot safer if you just don't know me. You're not gonna see me again."

"Whys that?" he asked, "If you're an enemy of the Foot, it'd be kinda impressive if I didn't. Also, this _is_ the second time I've met you." he grinned crookedly,

She ignored the statement completely, "I've heard the Shredder and his daughter talking," she told him, "About their enemies." She added, "I wondered why they called them 'the turtles' but now it kinda makes sense." She paused, ending the small tangent, "But they were talking about how they're gonna be dead soon." She shrugged, "Thought you might wanna know."

Raphael scoffed, "Yeah, right." He said, "They must've said that a hundred times by n-" he stopped, "The _Shredder_?"

"Er, yeah."

"But the Shredder's _dead_."

"No he's not." She said, "I heard them talking just a few days ago in the Foot skyscraper. He was nearly killed in an explosion, and he's almost fully healed."

"You don't know what you're talking about." He said, "Me and my brothers, we _saw_ that explosion, there ain't no way he survived _that_."

"You calling me a liar, Brooklyn?" she asked, still referring to him by his accent, even though she now knew his name. Her tone was half serious, half teasing.

"Maybe." He replied, "I just like to check my facts, is all."

"Feel free to break in and see the Shredder yourself," she told him, "But you'll live a hell of a lot longer if you just take my word for it."

Raphael paused, very serious now, "You swear that he's alive?" he asked, "That it's the truth?"

"On my honour." She said, and she placed her right fist over her heart as she said this. Raphael was briefly reminded of Leo. There was a small pause before she added, in an entirely sincere tone, "_Dōmo arigatō_."

This threw Raphael, mostly. Every second he spent in this girl's company, the more bizarre she seemed to be. She was definitely not Japanese, yet she spoke it (albeit, it was a simple phrase) and she was able to wield Japanese weapons. Nonetheless, it was nice to know that she actually _was_ grateful for his help - pinning him to the wall had rather suggested otherwise. Raphael turned away for a moment, and pondered all this. But when he turned back to reply, to say "you're welcome", he found he was alone.

* * *

She sounded...interesting," said Donatello. Raphael was back at the lair, and had just finished telling his brothers what had happened,

"You just _let her see you_?" Leonardo exclaimed, "Raph! You of all turtles should know better! What if she freaked? What if she'd run to the papers?"

"She didn't, though, _did she_?" Raphael countered, "She barely freaked at all." He had left out her little run away attempt for the sake of keeping Leonardo and Splinter as calm as possible, "And I'll tell you why: she knows stuff about the Foot." He continued,

"Like _we_ don't." Leonardo retorted, "I'll bet my katana we know way more than she _ever_ will." he jerked his thumb to the swords he had (almost permanently) strapped across his back.

"I ain't saying that she does, Leo!" Raphael exclaimed,

"Maybe not, but that's not the point, the point is she _saw_ you, and knows _what you are_!" Leonardo pressed,

"Hey, if she's hanging around the Foot it's only a matter of time before she figures it out anyway. She'd already overheard us being mentioned." Raphael told his eldest brother,

"And you couldn't leave it at a mention?"

"It was an accident!" Raphael shouted, "I never _meant_ for her to see me! But she did, and there's no going back, is there?" he paused, satisfied that his brother could no longer complain about his – quote – "idiocy and lack of judgement". It had truly been accidental, but perhaps it had been a good kind of accident. Only time would tell. "I'm just saying that I met her whilst scouting tonight." he continued calmly. Technically still true.

"I want to know why she was in there in the first place." Said Donatello, "Did she say why?"

"She wanted information." Raphael told him, "But she didn't find any."

"What sort of information?" Donatello asked,

"No idea." Raphael replied, shrugging. This was not a total lie.

Among other things, he had not told his brothers what the girl had said about the Shredder. He just didn't believe it, there was no possible way he could have survived.

Unfortunately, the strange girl was right, and Raphael was wrong.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – After "Rogue in the House: Part 2"**

* * *

"I'm gonna miss Zog..." said Donatello forlornly. For the past few days he had been very panicked and gloomy, much like his three brothers. All things considered, it was understandable.

"Me too." Said Michelangelo, joining in the conversation because, for the first time ever, his comics weren't enough to distract him from his hectic life. "For a Triceraton, he was pretty cool."

"No offence guys, but we need to see the bigger picture." Said Leonardo. He too had mourned Zog's loss, but ever one of the more level-headed turtles, he knew that the time for properly mourning Zog would be after they killed the Shredder. For _good_. Not a single one of them believed that the Shredder had perished in the fire - his exo-suit was too strong, and his followers too great in loyalty and numbers. "We need to focus on the biggest issue here." he said, firmly, but not unkindly.

"We know, we know. The Shredder." Added Raphael in a growl. "He's back."

"Again." Donatello added glumly,

Silently, Raphael was very scared. The girl had known about this before them, should he tell his brothers, or not? She may provide valuable information regarding the Foot's plans, but what if she was an undercover Foot, placed to infiltrate them? What if she didn't have any useful information beyond that? She was a stranger anyway, so his brothers would not even _consider_ it until they were confident that she was not a threat. Ever since they had discovered the Shredder really _was_ alive, their trust issues had increased ten-fold.

Then again, they needed all the help they could get. And if this girl could provide it, well, who cares if she was strange? She could hold her own in a fight, so it was unlikely that she would be a hindrance. And from what he had seen, she didn't seem like a threat, just a rather peculiar ally, like Casey was at first. This – the fact that the girl somehow reminded him of Casey – was what cemented Raphael's decision on what he said next. So he cleared his throat, and spoke a sentence that possibly (considering Leo's mood) could have gotten him killed.

"The girl I met..." he said, "She knew the Shredder was alive...before we did."

There was a moment of silence. Then, slowly, the blank faces of his brothers morphed into separate emotions. Leonardo looked furious, Donatello looked surprised beyond belief, and Michelangelo looked merely confused.

"She said that the Shredder was alive..." Leonardo began, his voice deadly quiet, "_AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL US_?!" he yelled. To say he glared daggers would be like saying the Federation and Triceraton Republic had had a slight disagreement. Then he threw rationality aside; suddenly becoming very Raphael-esque and rugby tackling the aforementioned brother to the ground. Even though it would do more harm than good, Raphael fought back. Both of them were shouting their heads off at each other, punching, kicking, feinting, _battling_ to get the upper hand. This continued for several minutes until, eventually, Raphael was pinning Leonardo to the ground, and the eldest two turtles were still enough for the other two to pull them away from each other.

"Take it easy, Leo," said Donatello, holding his eldest brother's' arms behind his back. Michelangelo was doing the same with Raphael, but with considerably less success. If Raphael had _really_ wanted to continue fighting Leonardo, he would have been fighting Leonardo. He knew Mikey's limits as well as his own, meaning that he knew exactly how hard he could hit before he caused his baby brother any real pain, and exactly how hard he could struggle before actually breaking free of said brother's hold.

"Whoa, chill, dude," Michelangelo said, his voice betraying some genuine concern amongst the surfer-speak and jester mannerisms. Raphael wrenched his arms free of Michelangelo's grasp and began brushing himself down.

"I wasn't sure if she was right or not, Leo," Raphael told his eldest brother, "And I didn't wanna get you all worried on a _maybe_."

"But it _wasn't_ a maybe, Raph!" Leo exclaimed,

"I know that _now_!" Raphael retorted, "But in case you haven't noticed, _I AIN'T PSYCHIC_!" he roared. He felt a horribly familiar, dangerous rage building up inside of him, and he forced himself to calm. Bad things would happen if he didn't.

"Look, guys," said Donatello, moving between his two brothers and placing a hand on each of their chests, pushing them away from each other. "Arguing isn't going to change the fact that the Shredder _is back_." He turned to Raphael, "And this girl...from what it sounds, she might be a reliable source of intel."

"I was thinking the same," he replied, "But she's as much trouble to the Foot as we are, she's in a worse place that us, cause she ain't a ninja." from what he had seen, he rated her combat skills about the same as Casey's. Being able to throw shruiken and wield sai did not make you a ninja, it made you good in combat. They had seen no evidence besides her choice of weaponry that she was trained in ninjutsu. Se was an excellent combatant, no denying that, but something about her style...he just _knew_ she wasn't a ninja.

"Maybe," said Donatello, "but she's human, and that means she can blend in and disguise herself way better than us."

"You do realise we're talking about trusting a girl we haven't even met."

"Raph's met her," said Michelangelo pointedly, "And if he trusts her, then I do too." It was a valid hypothesis. Raphael was the least trusting of the group. If he reckoned someone was trustworthy, they almost certainly were.

"Same here," said Donatello, and the three of them turned to Leonardo,

"So, Fearless-Leader," said Raphael, "You trust her or not?"

Leonardo sighed, "After we've _all_ met her, and asked her a few questions...then maybe." he said, "But even if we _do_ decide to trust her, so what?"

"_So_," said Donatello, "We can infiltrate the Foot on a whole new level."

"What's in it for her?"

"She said she was looking for information," said Raphael, "Information about Shredder. Chances are we've got it, or _can _get it for her."

"Alright, fine." said Leonardo grudgingly.

* * *

"Smart move, Raph, _real_ smart move." Raphael muttered to himself furiously. After finally getting his brothers to give this girl a chance – he had a gut feeling that she'd be a valuable ally, and his gut had never been wrong before – they had all insisted they meet and question her. Problem was, he had no idea where she lived, and since he was the only one of the four she was familiar with, it was his job, and his alone, to find her.

Though he had a sneaking suspicion that he alone had been stuck with this job because Leonardo did not like the idea of Raphael's revealing his identity to a girl who was not going to reveal hers any time soon. He didn't know anything beyond her hair colour - and even then it may have been dyed - and yet he had somehow told her the most important factors about his life. Something about the girl seemed familiar. Not in the sense of an old friend, but more of a circumstance. He knew very little of her story, only that the Foot – for some reason – were hunting her. But that fact alone automatically drew him closer to her.

It had been three days, and so far, absolutely nothing. He had put out a word to some of the homeless people he was familiar with, as well as April and Casey, but so far, no luck whatsoever. In a last-ditch cross between a hope and an idea, he was back on top of the tallish building. It was the same one where he had first met the girl, the one where they had saved each other from capture through an almost immediate, mutual and silent agreement. _That_ was why Raphael trusted her. She had trusted him as much as he did her – hesitantly at first, but given the benefit of the doubt because of her apparent relationship with the Foot. He was scouting the Foot training compound, in the hope of finding her again. The compound was oddly silent – it seemed that there was no trading to be done today.

On this third day of searching, on this apartment building roof, Raphael's hopes were somewhat answered. For you see, when he reached the roof, he found a note pinned to the wall. You wouldn't see it unless you had climbed the fire escape, which Raphael had, and it was pinned to the wall with one of the girl's shuriken. He knew it was the girl's because it carried no seal. Most shuriken carried a symbol of some design, to show the affiliation of whoever had thrown it. This throwing-star was blank. Raphael pulled the note from it, causing it to tear at the top.

As for the content of the note...well, it was clearly, yet subtly addressed to him. On the front was a small picture of a turtle. Just a simple silhouette of a normal turtle, but it had a red stripe across it's head, a clever indication as to who it was for. He didn't know why the drawing made him smile a bit, but it did, and he had a half-grin on his face as he unfolded the note and read it in his head.

_Word on the street is that you're looking for me, Brooklyn_. The note said. _I guess that means you finally believe me about the Shredder, and I daresay that by now you'll be sleeping rough too. If you wanna talk, I play the violin, and I love antiques._

That was all the note said. Confused, Raphael turned it over, in the hopes of finding a location, coordinates, _something_. But all he had to go on was a _hobby_. It was all he could do not to crumple up the note, throw it to the ground and shout profanity at it. He permitted himself groan out loud as he wrenched the shuriken from the wall and began to make his way back home.

"She sure ain't no New Yorker." He muttered to himself, "A New Yorker would get straight to the point."

* * *

"'_I play the violin, and I love antiques_'?" Donatello read aloud, "What the shell does _that_ mean?"

"Beats me," said Raphael, "It don't make no sense."

"On the contrary, my dear Raphael," said Michelangelo. He was standing at the doorway, holding a smoking pipe and a magnifying glass, "It makes _perfect_ sense."

"Mikey, what are you doing?" asked Leonardo, voicing everyone's thoughts.

"I think he found my _Sherlock Holmes_ collection," groaned Donatello, putting his head in his hands, "Hamato Michelangelo, _if you got_ _pizza stains on them_-" he began in a threatening voice,

"Chill bro." Michelangelo grinned, but then sobered, "I mean, er, _worry not_, dear brother." He corrected himself, "And you were quite right." He added.

It was then that the other three realised he was putting on a British accent. A ridiculously pompous, stereotypical Londoner's accent. At the same time, Raphael clicked why the girl had sounded strange when speaking; _she_ spoke with a British accent too.

"Speak normally, Mikey," said Raphael, "If you wanna keep speaking at all," he added, raising a fist threateningly.

"Okay, okay," he said hurriedly, returning to his normal accent, "But I'm serious about the note." He said, "It makes perfect sense."

"How?" asked Donatello,

"Elementary, my dear Donnie." Michelangelo proclaimed, grabbing the note, "It's a clue to where she is."

"And how would you know that?" asked Leonardo,

"Because I notice things," his youngest brother replied, "Things like the fact that people paraphrase 'being homeless' by saying 'sleeping rough' and that most homeless try to earn money by performing in the street."

Realisation dawned on Donatello's face, "Mikey, you're a genius!" he exclaimed,

"He is?" asked Raphael,

"I am?" asked Michelangelo, before continuing, "I mean, of course I am!"

"Please, explain," Raphael said sarcastically,

"Raph, don't you see?" Donatello asked excitedly, "She's telling us exactly where she is!"

"_How_?" he asked for the umpteenth time, "How the _shell_ does that note tell us _anything_ useful?"

"She says that '_you'll be sleeping rough by now too_'." Donnie answered, "Most would take it to mean that we're losing sleep over this, but it _also_ means that _she_ 'sleeps rough'. Meaning she's homeless."

"And?" Raphael asked, "I already knew that, and it just makes our search harder,"

"You'd think, but then she tells us that she plays the violin," Donatello continued, "I bet that she means she plays the violin as a street performer,"

"Uh...huh..." Raphael was starting to follow now, "So how do we find her?"

"She 'loves antiques'," Donatello told him, "Meaning she plays by antique shops. All we've gotta do is check out the city's antique shops and look for someone playing the violin."

"That's...actually really clever," said Leonardo, slightly grudgingly, "But there are still loads of antique shops in the city."

"Still, with six of us, it shouldn't take too long." Said Donatello,

"Six?" asked Michelangelo,

"Yeah, us four, Casey and April." Said Donatello

Raphael snorted, "Have you guys seen the goo-goo eyes they've been making at each other lately?" he asked, "They might as well count as one!"

"Still, five isn't too shabby." Protested Donatello, "We can go later, talk to them and ask for their help."

"Sounds as good a plan as any." Leonardo shrugged.

* * *

"What?"

April's voice was blank and disbelieving. Michelangelo, Leonardo and Raphael had stood in silence whilst Donatello had explained everything to her.

Donatello cleared his throat, "Er...what is it that you're unclear about?" he asked,

"Guys, you're planning on scanning the whole city for some girl!" she exclaimed, "And for _what_? Another human ally? You already have _two_!"

"April," Raphael cut in, "She wants information about her brother, we can get it. We need help infiltrating the Foot, she can provide it. She overheard Hun himself comparing her to us...course she didn't know it was _us_." He added under his breath, "...but she soon would have - she's been digging around in the Foot's secure files. She knew the Shredder was alive."

"What if she's an undercover Foot?" April protested,

"Trust me, she's not." said Raphael,

"Okay, so maybe she isn't." April backtracked, "But even so, the Foot have loads of enemies. Are you saying you should ally yourselves with and recruit all of them?"

"No," Donatello replied, "We're saying that we should recruit _her _because she had information that even _we_ didn't have. Whatever she does, she does it well." He paused, and continued in a very serious tone, "Like Raph said, she _knew that the Shredder was alive_. And she knew before we did. She told Raph about it _weeks_ before it happened. She's infiltrated the Foot on a level we've never been able to."

April nodded at that, "Okay, I grant you, that's impressive." She said, "But are you sure you can trust her?"

"She swore she wouldn't tell anyone when I showed her what I really was." Raphael said, "Not to mention, we can get her the information she wants – that should be more than enough to bu her silence."

"Yes, but _can you trust her_?" April protested, "Maybe she won't reveal your secret – I mean, who would believe her anyway? – But how do you know she won't rat you out to the Foot? Maybe she infiltrated them on such a level because she actually _is_ one of them."

Raphael shook his head, "No...there was something about her." He said, "I could tell the Foot did her a big wrong." He paused, "April, I saw the same look in her eyes when I mentioned the Foot, as Casey's eyes when I mention the Purple Dragons. Trust me when I say that she ain't gonna betray us."

April sighed, "Okay," she said "I'm on board. What do you want me to do?"

"We need you and Casey to check all the antique shops for a violinist." Leonardo deadpanned,

April looked at him with an expression of confusion and concern, "What?" she asked. In response, Donatello stepped forward and handed her the note.

April's eyes scanned the note quickly, "Okay," she said, uncertainly, not quite seeing their point, but trusting them nonetheless. "I'll keep an eye out here, and tell you guys if anyone like this comes around." She looked up at them, "I'm assuming _you're_ Brooklyn." She added, addressing Raphael.

"Yup." He replied, suddenly quite proud of the nickname.

"Suits you." April remarked, before handing the note back to Donatello, "Good luck," she told him, "New York is a big city."

"Tell me about it." said Michelangelo,

Just then, there was the sound of the shop door opening. Quick as a flash, the four turtles dove out of sight. Leonardo behind the counter, Michelangelo behind a large statue, Raphael on top of a bookcase and Donatello into a _particularly_ shadowy patch.

They really needn't have bothered, the person who had walked in was Casey. He was holding a large laundry bag over one shoulder.

"Hey, April." He grinned, "You seen the guys anywhere?" he asked, "They asked me to come here with a bunch of-" he stopped, the turtles having exited their hiding places, "Never mind." He said numbly, and handed Donatello the bag. April put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

Raphael had called Casey earlier, asking him to bring their hockey gear so they could walk about the city unnoticed. When Casey had asked why, Raphael had briefly explained their situation, the bottom line being this: they needed to find a girl. Casey had immediately pounced on that statement in a romantic sense, and had teased Raphael relentlessly. This has eventually lead to Raphael roaring at his shell-cell, "IT AIN'T_ THAT _KIND OF GIRL TROUBLE! JUST BRING THE FREAKING CLOTHES!"

"Here we go, dudes." Casey said. Donatello opened the bag to find a bundle of clothes,

"Hey, Casey?" asked Michelangelo, looking over Donatello's shoulder and into the bag "Where are the masks?"

Casey looked at him, "You kidding me?" he asked, "You walk around with a hockey mask on and people are gonna think you're muggers." He held up four pairs of sunglasses, "So I brought these instead."

"Jones, you are a genius!" said Raphael, "A complete bonehead, but a genius."

Casey smiled goofily, "So why're you so determined to find this gal anyway?" he asked,

Leonardo shrugged, "Ask Raph." He said, "He's the one with the hero complex."

Casey nudged Raphael, "I thought you said it _wasn't_ that kind of girl trouble." He grinned.

"It ain't." Raphael said grumpily, "She has information about the Foot."

Casey shrugged, "You can call a bird a fish, but that don't make it swim." A strange metaphor, but an accurate one nonetheless.

"Actually, Casey," said Donatello, looking up from the bag, "In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly _human_. We aren't attracted to humans, the same way humans wouldn't be attracted to us."

"Then what _are_ you attracted to?" asked Casey, "Girl turtles?"

"I guess..." Donatello replied, "But until...**_IF_**...one of us gets a crush, it's hard to say for sure."

"Gotta be kinda lonely, don't you think?" Casey said in a musing tone, "Going your whole life without a girl to keep you company?"

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm happy with my brothers." Michelangelo grinned, pulling Raphael and Donatello into hugs around the necks. Donatello smiled and Raphael grumbled, but he was fighting a smile of his own.

"Me too." Said Donatello. Raphael nodded in agreement, but Leo stayed silent.

"Leo?" said Casey, "Have you got your little turtle eye on some gal?" he grinned,

"No...I don't." Leonardo replied, "I'm just thinking...we're the only four of our kind. There will never be any more of us. Not with the Utroms gone."

"Well, most of them anyway." Added Raphael darkly, "But we can have the soul-bearing session later, bro." he said, "Right now, we gotta find that girl."

"Okay, guys." Said Leonardo, "Fan out, we're looking for a teenage girl playing the violin, and she should be playing outside, or near an antique shop."

"That's weirdly specific." Casey remarked, "Have you got anything more to go on? Like appearance?"

"She has red hair." Said Raphael, after a minute's thought,

"How do you know _that_?" asked Donatello, "You said you never saw her face."

"I didn't." Raphael replied, "Her hood came down." He shrugged, "Now come on! Most of the street shows pack up at five, and it's already three thirty."

"He's right," said Casey, "I say we split up and meet back here at five thirty."

"Roger that. Anyone finds someone like that, Shell-Cell the rest of us." Said Donatello, and the four turtles ran their separate ways, leaving Casey to wander about the high streets' antique shops, looking for teen girls playing the violin. April just stood at the till, waiting.

She sighed. She just _knew_ that this girl was more than just a female version of Casey with a grudge against the Foot rather than the Purple Dragons. _Nothing concerning the guys is ever that simple._ She thought, _it's probably some big plot that she got caught up in by chance._ She had a feeling that it was going to be a long few weeks to come.

And considering psychics didn't exist, the accuracy of April's prediction was almost scary.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – After "Return of the Justice Force"**

* * *

It was a long, boring and overall fruitless two hours that day.

And the next.

And the next.

By the time the five regrouped at April's shop for the fifth time, they had still found nothing pointing to the girl's exact location. They were tired and irritated, and Raphael was starting to wonder if this girl was just messing with him and his brothers.

"Any luck?" asked April, as the five trooped into her shop. She knew the answer before Donatello even opened his mouth.

"No." said Donatello, pulling his coat off. "You?"

"Well, I-" April began, but she was cut off by a grumpy Leonardo.

"Let's just give up, Raph." He said irritably, shrugging off his jacket. "This is clearly a sign. We're not gonna find her and it's not our business anyway."

"You saying it ain't our problem that the Shredder's still alive?" he asked, removing his own disguise.

"Of course it's our problem, I'm saying that this _girl_ isn't!" Leonardo retorted,

"She got that information somehow, and she might have more – we need all the help we can get!" Raphael exclaimed, his temper flaring. All four of them had gotten rid of their disguises, and now, whilst two turtles fought, the other two watched with a bored expression as if to say _not again_.

"We don't know if we can trust her!" Leonardo yelled,

"Er, guys-" April began again, but she was once again interrupted by an angry retort. This time it was Raphael, the retort directed at his eldest brother.

"What makes you say that? She gave us that information!"

"Yeah, and this girl is _such_ an old and trustworthy ally!" Leonardo replied sarcastically, "If you wanna look for her, fine! Not my problem."

"My, my," came a dry, feminine voice, dripping with mock hurt, "If you keep talking like that, I might not be so helpful next time, sword-boy. And I _was_ right about the Shredder, you know."

"Er, Raph?" said Donatello, "Is that her?" he asked, pointing rather unnecessarily. And indeed it was. Standing in the doorway, dressed entirely in black (aside from her jeans) was the girl. Her hood was down. Sure enough, Raphael had been right and she _did_ have red hair. It was long and very curly, almost unruly, and a side fringe covered her forehead. Her face was pale, and she looked to be in her late teens. Her eyes were golden-brown – and they would have looked warm and friendly if not for the shadows around them, and the dark, sad aura. Covering her eyes was the same mask that Raphael had seen her wearing in the alley; a mask almost identical to the turtles' masks, only hers had no long tails, and it was black. Her violin was nowhere to be seen – no doubt stashed in the black duffel bag slung over her left shoulder. Her weapons belt was still around her waist, but there was no weapon of any sort in sight. The pouch was firmly closed, and Raphael supposed that her black-hilted sai were probably in the duffel bag too.

"How'd you find us?" Donatello asked her,

"I'm one of the best at what I do." she said, "And what I do, is finding information." she smiled amiably at him, but the smile didn't quite thaw her sad eyes, "Besides, you weren't exactly hard to spot." she paused, "Anyway. Word on the street – quite literally – is that you lot are looking for me."

"That's right." Said Leonardo.

She smiled crookedly at them, "So, Brooklyn." She said, "Why're you so intent on finding me?"

"Never mind _that_, where _were_ you?" Michelangelo asked, "We must've searched the whole city!"

"I've been here for about an hour." She said, "I was just round the corner." She jerked over her shoulder with her thumb.

April sighed exasperatedly, "That's what I was trying to tell you guys a minute ago!" she exclaimed,

"Why didn't you call?" Donatello asked her, for _he_ had spent the last hour traipsing round the particularly dodgy part of town.

"_Excuse _me?" April demanded, in her Casey-Jones-you-get-away-from-those-breakables voice. Donatello sort of retreated into his shell at her words. April then continued in a calmer voice, "I was overrun by an old couple that wanted to buy half the shop." She answered, "I was too busy making a living to make a phone call, they were _so chatty_."

"They seemed to appreciate violin music though." The girl said, "They gave me ten bucks." she patted her pocket.

"Wonderful, now can we get to the point of all this?" Leonardo asked tetchily, he turned to the girl, "How did you know about the Shredder?"

She shrugged, "I'm good." She replied.

"Well, duh!" said Michelangelo, "There's no way you'd still be _alive_ if you weren't." he paused, "Hey, you've gotta be at least as good as _us_ to still be alive right now."

The girl smiled slightly, "Thanks." She said, and she turned to Leonardo, "You're obviously the leader here." She said dryly, "Why did you want to find me?"

"_I_ didn't." Leonardo said flatly, "_They_ did." He pointed to his three brothers.

"You're a real charmer." She muttered sarcastically, speaking just loud enough for the others to hear. She turned to the other three, "So, what's up?" she asked,

"We need you to infiltrate the Foot." Said Donatello,

The girl blinked, "Is that it?" she asked, sounding slightly disappointed,

"Well..." Donatello continued, "...we also need some information."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, with an air of understanding, "That sounds _way_ more up my street." she smiled at them, "So what can I get you, boys?" she asked, "The names of the Foot? Baxter Stockman's weaponry blueprints?" she looked sideways and Leonardo and smiled in a cat-like fashion, "The diary of Miss Oroku Karai?" Leonardo glared at her, but she continued, unfazed, "A piece of Utrom technology?"

"You know about the Utroms?" Donatello exclaimed, "_How_?"

She shrugged, "Like I said, I'm good."

The turtles, Casey and April looked at each other. She was obviously hiding something – something besides her identity. And until they knew what, it was plain that Leonardo wouldn't trust her. And if Leonardo didn't trust her, their plans would be severely handicapped.

"Well, anyway," said Donatello continued, "What we want is Shredder's plan. He's got something big going on, and we need to know what it is. Hopefully, we can stop it."

"Sounds simple enough." The girl remarked, "But what's in it for me?"

To say that the turtles were surprised would have been an understatement. Their jaws dropped at this comment, "You want _payment_?" Leonardo spluttered eventually, "Not a chance, sunshine!"

"Okay, **_A_**, I was _joking_." She exclaimed, "And **B**, my name's not sunshine, sword-boy."

"Ignore him." Said April, who had for a period gone unnoticed, "He's just grumpy." She stepped out from behind the till, smiling, "I'm April, by the way. April O'Neil." She held out a hand to the girl.

The girl smiled, and took April's hand, "Nice to meet you, April." She replied, and her brow creased slightly as she looked at the older woman, then recognition dawned, "hey...you're Stockman's old assistant, aren't you?" she said,

"I am indeed." April smiled, it was a nice feeling, being recognised by someone. Even if it _was_ because she had worked with a lunatic. "What's your name?" she asked,

"It doesn't matter." the girl replied,

"Oh?" asked April, "Why's that?"

"The Foot are after me." The girl replied darkly, "Lets just say I know some stuff that I shouldn't, and they don't like that."

"Whoa," said April, trying to make light of the situation, "You sound like Casey when he's talking about the Purple Dragon."

The girl looked around the room, "I'm assuming you mean that one." She pointed to Casey,

"Hey!" Casey said indignantly, "I have a name." he said, "April just told you it."

"I know your name." The girl smiled, "I know that your _full_ name is Arnold Casey Jones Jr. I know that your father died when you were a little kid. And I know that just before that, your family's shop was burned to the ground by a group of Purple Dragons."

Casey's jaw dropped, "Uh, dudes?" he addressed the turtles, "Should we be scared of her?"

"No." growled Leonardo, "Because there's six of us and one of her." With that, he drew one of his katana and made a run at her. Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo watched in a sort of tired way, and everyone in the room was questioning why he was so quick to antagonise her.

Quick as a flash, her black duffel bag was open and lying on the floor. Her weapons belt was no longer empty – all three loops filled. In one was the small dagger, in the other two were...well, three of the turtles could not believe their eyes.

They were sai.

Twin sai. Almost identical to Raphael's, only the handles weren't wrapped in bright red fabric; but black fabric, decorated with gold Japanese letters. Leonardo was running straight towards her, sword raised. He brought it down in an elegant curve, but found that it was halted rather suddenly. The momentum, with nowhere else to go, shivered down his arms and into his torso, making him feel nauseous.

The girl had clasped the sword between her hands. Splinter had done the very same on previous occasions, catching the blade between his hands by simply holding them as if he were about to clap, and bringing them together around the blade as if he were praying. It was very difficult to do, as you could very easily end up with your hands being sliced open. It probably helped that the girl was wearing gloves, but part of it was simply skill. She had the blade clasped firmly between both hands, the tip mere centimeters from her nose. She didn't even flinch.

She smirked at Leonardo, "Got you." she said. Quicker than Leonardo could blink, she let go of the sword, and jumped back. By the time she had landed on April's counter, Leonardo had drawn his second katana and was running again. However, before he could catch her, she had jumped again, and Leonardo's blades came into contact with nothing but air. It was a little concerning how savagely he was fighting her, and probably a very good thing that she was quicker than him.

None of the others had joined the fight. They saw no reason to, as the girl had yet to make an attacking move at Leonardo. Or anyone, for that matter. But still, their weapons were drawn. Raphael was watching with a mild amusement.

"Hey, now, sword-boy." The girl said, grinning, "You need to chill. You might hurt someone."

"I intend to." Leonardo remarked, jumping up to meet her on top of the furniture. Now the girl drew her sai. She crossed them in front of her face, catching Leonardo's blades in between the prongs, using them to push Leo's katana away from her. Whilst she did this, she twisted one sai sharply, and so one katana slid from Leonardo's grasp, spinning across the floor. She slid one of her sai up his other katana's blade and along his arm. She then turned sharply, so she was facing away from him, and her arms were behind her head. She then pulled her arms (and Leonardo) back over her head, throwing him – and his weapons – over her shoulder and to the ground. He landed flat on his back with a sharp _crack_, and he let go of his other sword. The girl sheathed her weapons, turned to the others, and held up her hands in submission.

"Okay, firstly, I only know about Jones because I saw the Foot's file on him." She said,

"I have a file?" Casey said, "Cool." He grinned, obviously impressed with himself. He high-fived Raphael (or is it high-three...?)

"Why was his file in the Foot compound?" Asked Donatello, "Casey's enemy is the Purple Dragon, not the Foot."

"Since the Foot allied with the Purple Dragon, they combined their databases." Tawny replied, "I was looking for...someone else's file, and it seemed that Jones here was in the same category."

"And what category was that?" asked Raphael suspiciously,

"Males H-N." she replied, holding up her hands as if to push away the negativity and suspicion, "Chill."

"A little help?" came Leo's voice. He was still on the floor. Tawny turned and offered him a hand. He glared at her, but took it. Once he was stood up he moved to the other side of the room. Then he nodded. It was a tiny motion, and only his three brother saw it. And only they knew what it stood for.

Suddenly, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo advanced on the girl. It was three against one, and the fight was short. It had been the plan from the very start; lure her to April's shop, then take her to the lair and question her. Perhaps not the kindest method, but certainly the safest. If she knew about the Shredder – and now, the Utroms – she was a force to be reckoned with.

But that did not mean that the turtles liked pouncing on a young girl, overpowering her and blindfolding her. In fact, all four of them, even Leonardo, felt ill whilst doing so. The only comfort to their troubled minds was that they truly did not mean to harm her, only to question her. How did she know what she knew? Why was she an enemy of the Foot in the first place?

After all, they know what they say: _keep your friends close, and your enemies closer_.

* * *

"Ah, my sons," came Splinter's voice, "It is good to see you..." he trailed off, having spotted a girl slung over Raphael's shoulder. Her hands her were bound, and there was a bag over the top of her head.

"Do I want to know?" Splinter asked his sons tiredly,

"Probably not." Replied Donatello, "But she's perfectly safe, we promise."

Just then, she started to move, "Let me go!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled by the bag, "Put me down right now, or so help me-!"

"Oh, shush." Said Raphael, rolling his eyes. He had her slung over his back, and had spent the past twenty minutes with two surprisingly persistent fists hammering his shell. However, all it had done had made his voice come out a little strange, like he was sitting on a massage chair. The girl kept struggling, and it was only because both Raphael and Michelangelo were holding on to her that she had not escaped.

"No!" she replied, "I didn't do a thing to you guys! Just let me go!"

"Is this true, Leonardo?" Splinter asked, "If so, why have you captured her?"

"We just want to question her, sensei." Leonardo replied, "She has some...interesting information, and we're just concerned on how she got hold of it."

"I'm _not_ a Foot soldier!" the girl cried, "Just _let me go_!"

"At the very least, you should put her down, Raphael." Splinter said, "And you are to remove her blindfold."

"What happened to 'keep our secret lair a secret'?" asked Donatello. He had the girl's duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he put it down on the sofa as he addressed his sensei.

"It is very unlikely that she knows our exact location." Splinter told them, "She is, after all, blindfolded." He paused, "But now that you have arrived, I suggest that you remove the blindfold."

"Hai, sensei." The four replied. And with that, Splinter returned to his dojo. Meekly, Raphael set the girl down on a chair in the middle of the room. He tied her to it, and took off the black fabric bag from her head. Her hood was still down, and her jaw was set in annoyance. Her eyes glittered dangerously when she looked at Leonardo.

"We'd prefer if you didn't try to make a run for it." Leonardo told her dryly, "It would just waste time."

"You could have just asked me to come with you, you know." She said grumpily. But she sat back in her chair; the knots were tight and strong, "But I'll give you this; you sure know how to make first impressions." She looked down at her bound form. "Would it have killed you to wash the bag beforehand?" she asked,

"Very funny." Said Leonardo, "Now start talking,"

"Lemme guess, you're bad cop?" she said shrewdly, and turned to the other three, "So, which one of you is good cop?"

"None of them." Leonardo said, "We're going to question you, and you're going to answer."

The girl snorted, "You'll never break me." She said, with an air of quoting something. Then she continued, "I'm not particularly fond of being abducted and tied to chairs in return for offering help." She crossed her legs and, if she had been able to, she would have crossed her arms as well.

"Well, _we_ don't like bringing strangers into our home," said Leonardo, "so it looks like neither of us are getting what we want."

"Get used to it, then, sword-boy." The girl replied, "I'm not talking if you're just gonna be rude."

Leonardo growled at her, but managed to refrain from drawing his katana.

"You know, for a potential threat, I kinda like her." Donatello whispered to Raphael,

Raphael grinned back, "I know," he replied, "I haven't seen Leo get this ticked off in ages."

Meanwhile, the girl was rolling her eyes at Leonardo's attempts at interrogation. "So, Brooklyn," the girl said, cutting straight across Leonardo's question and moving her head so she could see past him. She addressed Raphael, "Care to introduce me to Prince Charming?" she jerked her head towards Leonardo. Raphael didn't see any harm in telling her their names, so he obliged.

"Sword-boy over there is Leo." He said, pointing to the aforementioned turtle,

"Leonardo, actually." He replied grumpily. It was one thing for a girl who didn't know his real name to call him '_sword-boy_'. It was quite another for his own brother to do so. He just _knew_ Raphael was doing it just to get under his skin, and what he hated most was that it was working.

"That's Donnie." Raphael continued,

"Donatello." He corrected, but he seemed happy enough. He raised a hand to the girl and smiled.

"And the goofball is Mikey."

"AKA Michelangelo, or the Turtle Titan." Michelangelo added, grinning. The girl smiled back.

"Okay," she said, "Leonardo, Donatello, and Michelangelo." She pointed to each in turn. Raphael nodded.

"Tell you what," said the girl, "Since you've been so nice as to actually introduce yourselves, you wanna interrogate me? Go ahead. But I get to pick who questions me."

"Why would you want that?" Leonardo asked suspiciously,

"Because then I can talk to someone who doesn't have a skull thicker than their shell, _Leonardo_." She replied, the tone of her voice and her British accent made the name sound like an insult.

Forcing himself not to rise to her bait, Leonardo grouped his brothers together a little way away from her.

"I don't like this." Leonardo said, "What if she puts some sort of mind trick on us?"

"Leo, she's a teenage girl." Donatello replied flatly,

"So? Anyone can get their hands on magic with the right connections." Leo pressed,

"Maybe, but I don't think she's one of them." Said Michelangelo, "She's too nice."

"_Nice_?!" Leonardo exclaimed, "She attacked me!"

"Only after you attacked her." Said Raphael, "She said herself that she found out about Casey by accident." he paused, "Seriously, though, dude, why are you so reluctant to trust her?"

"Why are _you_ so eager?" Leonardo countered harshly. He didn't say it out loud, but it was because of the fact that the last time they had trusted a girl trained in combat, she had nearly gotten them killed. Leonardo was _not_ about to risk his brothers' lives in case this girl - whoever she was - turned out to be anything like Karai.

"Call it giving someone the benefit of the doubt." Raphael replied, "She's got info, we need info. So until she actually betrays us, I say give her a freaking break. She's probably telling the truth."

"Hmph." Leonardo replied in a way that clearly meant a very sarcastic '_yeah, and she's never given us any reasons not to take her word for Gospel_'

"Okay, look," said Donatello, "I think we're all up for the one-on-one questioning." He said, "So all in favour of letting her choose which of us asks the questions, say 'Aye'."

"Aye." Came the voices of Raphael, Michelangelo and Donatello. They looked at Leonardo. He groaned,

"Fine." He muttered. They broke the group and turned back to the girl.

"Which one of us do you want to talk to first?" Leonardo asked grumpily,

"Well, as charming as _you_ are," the girl said, "I'd like to start with Brooklyn."

"_Just_ Broo-" Leonardo stopped himself, "Just Raph?" he asked,

"Well, if you wanna stay and listen, be my guest." she replied, "But don't you go chipping in."

Leonardo huffed and stomped off to his room, supposedly to meditate. The turtles had expected as much from the girl, as far as choice went. Raphael was the one she had met first, and knew the best – which is to say, _at all_ – so it was no surprise that she had picked him first. The other three walked off to do whatever they wanted. Michelangelo went to read comics, Donatello to his lab.

"Okay, Brooklyn." She said, "Hit me."

Raphael turned to her, alarmed, "What?" he asked.

The girl rolled her eyes, "It's an expression." She said, "I meant, go ahead." As Raphael thought of a question he heard her mutter "Eejit." Again.

"Are you ever gonna call me Raphael?" he asked,

"Maybe." She shrugged, "Is that all you've got to ask me?"

"No." he said,"What's your name?"

She thought for a moment, "You can call me Tawny." she said,

"You're not going to tell me your real name?" Raphael asked,

"The last person I trusted with both my identity and my situation with the Foot almost got me killed." she replied,

"Fair enough." Raphael said, "Can you tell me where you got those?" he asked, pointing to the sai that lay on the sofa beside her duffel bag,

"My master gave them to me." She answered, shrugging.

"Your master?" Raphael exclaimed, "What sort of master?"

She paused, "I guess you could call him my trainer...?" she said, "Actually, no..." she backtracked, "I lie. I had several masters."

"Masters as in sensei?" he asked,

"I guess." Tawny shrugged,

"So you're a ninja?"

Tawny made a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort. "No." she replied indignantly, "I'm a samurai."

"_WHAT_?" came a voice, clearly not Raphael's. As it turned out, it was Michelangelo, and he had been eavesdropping.

"Mikey!" Raphael exclaimed, "What happened to the plan?"

"You're listening to Leo?" Michelangelo asked, "Whoa, that's a first." He paused, "Do you want me to go?" he asked his brother. Raphael turned to Tawny.

"Eh. It's fine." She said, shrugging, "He doesn't hate my guts." she paused and turned to the younger turtle, "Michelangelo, right?" she asked. He nodded, "I'm guessing you've never seen a female samurai before?" she continued,

"Not really." He replied, "I've never even heard of one."

Tawny jerked her head towards her bag, "Open it," she said, smiling, "There's solid proof in there."

Carefully, as if it might bite, Michelangelo unzipped Tawny's duffel bag. He reached in, and pulled out two sheathed swords. A katana, and a tantō. They had identical hilts and sheaths – black with gold Japanese lettering (this close, he could see that the lettering was the same three symbols over and over again – 武士道) – and the only real difference between the two swords were their lengths. They were daishō.

"Solid proof, no _shell_." Raphael muttered. He took the katana from Michelangelo, "How does a teenage girl end up with weapons like _these_?"

"I told you," she said, "My masters gave them to me."

"Raph, where did you _get_ that?" came Donatello's voice. He had been walking to his room to fetch something, but had been side-tracked by the beautiful sword. In response, Raphael pointed to Tawny.

"Heya." She said casually.

"Hi." He said, and turned his attention back to her weaponry, "Where did your masters get those?" he asked, "I've never seen a set of sai and daishō made to match before."

"They weren't." Tawny replied, "I was given them separately, but I bought a piece of cloth to re-hilt them all with. The Japanese lettering says _bushidō_."

"They're beautiful..." Donatello said, "Show these to Leo, and I think he might like you a lot more."

Tawny snorted, "I doubt that. We seemed to get off on the wrong foot."

"Actually, Donnie's probably right." Said Michelangelo, "Leo is really big on honour and stuff."

"Not to mention these things are _gorgeous_." Donatello exclaimed. One of the few things that all four of them shared was a respect and admiration for weapons; even if, unlike Raphael, they were not obsessed with fighting and using them constantly; or, unlike Donatello, they did not want to upgrade them constantly.

"I'll grant you that." Said Leonardo, and they all turned to see him standing there, "They are certainly fine weapons."

"Well, then," said the girl, "You're still green, but you seem to have de-Hulked." Only Michelangelo and Raphael understood the reference, and they sniggered as Tawny continued, "So if we're all going to be civil now, can we talk properly?"

Leonardo's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean you untie me." She said, "You question me together, and I answer your questions...provided you're polite."

The four looked at each other. They already knew they could take her down if they worked together, and she didn't really seem like a bad person – but who was to say it wasn't a clever trick? Nonetheless, Donatello shrugged, stepped forward, and untied her from the chair.

"Thank you." She said, taking the swords back from the turtles. Leonardo flinched as she did so, but relaxed once he saw that all she did was place her weapons back into her bag. Sai included.

"So," Donatello said as she sat down on the sofa, "Tawny, right?" he asked. Like Michelangelo, he had overheard Raphael's questioning.

"You're Donatello, aren't you?" she replied in confirmation, and he nodded.

"You can call me Donnie." he said. Donatello did not press further into the matter of _her_ name – if she had wanted to give her real name, she would have.

"Why the mask?" asked Michelangelo,

"I could ask you the same, Turtle Titan." She replied, smiling slightly when Michelangelo grinned in a self-impressed way. "But you'd be surprised how different someone looks with and without a mask. And frankly, I'd rather stay a stranger when it comes to fighting the Foot." She continued. They nodded, understanding what she meant. "So, why do you want my help?" she asked them,

"You're able to infiltrate the Foot on a far greater level than we are." Said Donatello, "And we know the Shredder is planning something. We don't know what, but we know it's bad."

"So you want me to find out what it is, so you can jump in and save the day?" she asked, and the others nodded.

"Okay." She said, "I'm in."

They looked at her, "Really?" asked Michelangelo. They had been expecting more resistance.

"Sure." She replied, "Sounds like fun. And you lot might be _just_ the guys who can help _me_."

"Help you with what?" asked Donatello,

"Find my brother." She replied simply, but her voice was tinged with the same bitterness that Raphael had heard when she described Tony. Bitterness and sorrow.

"Your brother?" asked Michelangelo, "What happened to him?"

Tawny hesitated, as if not sure to tell them the truth. Then she seemed to throw caution into the wind and spoke. "I told you that the Foot are after me because I know stuff that I shouldn't." she said, and they nodded, "When I was thirteen, the Foot broke into my house. They...they killed my parents and captured me and my little brother. I was lucky enough to escape before we got back to the compound." she sighed, "After a year on the streets, running from the Foot, I was taken in by my masters. They trained me...so I could infiltrate the Foot, and I have since devoted my whole life to finding my brother, as well as discovering the reason why he was captured. Over the years, I've discovered a _lot_ about the Foot. And granted, it's a useful bargaining chip, but it's also a dangerous and indiscreet one."

"So that's why you were infiltrating the Foot..." Raphael realised, "You were looking for information on your brother."

"Bingo." She said, "But so far, everything regarding him and – as I later learned – the other captured children, is far more heavily guarded than anything else."

"Hang on," said Raphael, "You want us to help you get hold of some top secret information, when you're better at getting it than we are?"

"It's not just about skill." She said, "There's no way on Earth that someone could get into it alone. It requires a team."

"And you want _us_?" Leonardo asked, his guard was back up – this _reeked_ of trap.

"Well, _yeah_." Tawny replied, "You guys are the best warriors for _miles_." there was a pause, and she smiled understandingly at them. It was a small, sad smile, but a sincere one nonetheless. "But don't worry, I don't expect an answer right now." She said, "I know how cautious people...or rather, _turtles_ can get."

With that, Tawny stood and picked up her duffel bag, making her way to the door. "Think it over for a few days." she told them, "Once you've decided...you know where to find me." she turned and threw them a smile as she raised her hood.

None of the turtles tried to stop her. She seemed to pose no threat. They watched her take the Y'Lyntian elevator to the surface. There was a long beat of silence. Eventually, Donatello broke it.

"You do realise she now knows the exact location of our lair, right?" he asked,

"I didn't see you stopping her." Raphael replied, "Seriously though, if we let Casey in, why can't we let her? At least she can keep her mouth shut."

Secretly, the others agreed.

"So, Leo," said Donatello, trying, and failing, to keep his face straight, "You still think she's a threat?"

"Alright, I admit it," he said exasperatedly, "I was wrong. Happy?"

"Actually, yes." Said Michelangelo, a smug smile on his green face.

* * *

The rest of the day passed fairly normally...considering they were mutant anthropomorphic turtles trained in ninjutsu...and when the four of them went to sleep, all of them were fairly alright with going along with Tawny's proposition. At the end of the day, she was a girl who required assistance in something close to her heart - her own little brother. Despite being only the second-eldest, Raphael probably related to her the most. He was by far and away the most protective of his brothers, and anyone who dared mess with any of them – especially Michelangelo – would find themselves with a face full of angry ninja turtle.

If they were lucky.


	5. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I've decided to shake this chapter up a little - this takes place actually DURING a canon arc, and I've tried to keep it as correct as possible as far as the real storyline goes. Though the mini-arc (the Battle Nexus arc) is four separate episodes, they all happen immediately after each other, so timing shouldn't be too off. Some parts are not strictly correct to the whole plotline, but the basic points are. It might seem a little broken to those who have not seen the Battle Nexus Arc, but i reckon that even if it _does_, the main points still come across, and you're not missing a huge amount.  
**

**Enjoy :D**

* * *

**Chapter 4 - During** **"The Big Brawl"**

* * *

"MAKE WAY! BATTLE NEXUS FINALIST, COMING THROUGH!" Michelangelo sung his own praises through the Bazaar street of the Battle Nexus, "THAT'S RIGHT, FEAST YOUR EYES ON MIKEY THE MAGNIFICENT! DEFEATER OF SOME OF THE GREATEST WARRIORS IN ALL CREATION – _ungh_!" he was cut off by a painful slap upside the head from Raphael.

"Will you give it a rest, already?" he said irritably. He opened his mouth to scold his brother further, when a shifty sounding "_psst_!" reached his ears. He groaned inwardly as he turned, just knowing it was some dodgy salesman, trying to con what were obviously new (and therefore, inexperienced) guys out of the little money they had. Raphael knew full well that they didn't blend in – and _that_ was only partly due to Michelangelo's big-headed-ness (granted, Raphael had a sizeable ego of his own, but never flaunted it in public, that was just rude).

Upon turning to face the creatured who had "_psst_"-ed, Raphael saw that it was an anthropomorphic rhinoceros. Offering wagers. On himself. In the Tournament. Raphael vaguely remembered him from the Battle Nexus Finalist announcement only a few minutes earlier. What was his name...Jem?...James? Jen? _Jan_? Something beginning with a J or a G.

Not particularly politely, he brushed the rhino's offers aside, continuing his walk down the street, pausing only for a moment to double back and pull Michelangelo – who was asking about his own odds in the Tournament– along with him. Michelangelo, being the youngest of his brothers, didn't have many "street smarts" - granted, Donatello and Leonardo didn't have many either, so it could hardly be put down to naivety of age, but even they knew that gambling was a bad idea. The only reason Raphael had any "smarts" to speak of was due to this: during the (sadly quite frequent) times that he felt he needed to be alone as a child, he had found a nice, cosy spot below a Brooklyn sewer grate. As well as picking up various bits of profanity (much to Splinter's dismay), and an incredibly thick Brooklyn accent (much to Leonardo's delight, for he had taken great pleasure in teasing his brother), Raphael had also learnt what was and wasn't sensible in the shady side of the world.

"_Hey_!" Michelangelo protested when Raphael pulled him away from the rhino by his shoulder, "What were you _thinking_?" he asked in disbelief, and prepared to launch into a speech about the financial possibilities, only to be interrupted by a peculiarly familiar voice.

"Well, well, well...fancy seeing _you_ here, Michelangelo."

Both turtles turned to face who had spoken.

"And Brooklyn too." Tawny grinned at the pair of turtles, "How do you like the Nexus, boys?" she continued,

Both of them gaped at her. Her red hair was tied back in a high ponytail, exposing two ears, with two lobe-piercings each. Her black hoodie was gone, and she was wearing a surprisingly normal, plain white t-shirt. However, aside from this she was more or less the same. She still wore her mask and gloves – even her trainers – but instead of sai, clipped to the side of her weapons belt were daishō swords, the gold "_bushidō_" paint on the sheaths glinting in the sun. Though the differences were slight, it took Michelangelo and Raphael a few seconds to realise that it was Tawny in the first place, they never expected to find her _here_.

"What are _you_ doing here?" asked Michelangelo, a little ruder than he meant.

Tawny looked confused, "Well," she said, "I do live here."

Not it was Raphael's turn to ask, "What?" he exclaimed, "You live here? I thought you said you were homeless."

"In Dimension 3rd Earth I am." she replied, "But _here_, I have a house. _And_ a direct passage to my masters."

"Your masters live here too?" asked Michelangelo,

"No." Tawny answered, "They live in another dimension. But inter-dimensional travel is quick if you have the right tools."

"You mean chalk and gibberish." Raphael said flatly,

"Damn straight." Tawny smiled, "How are you guys here?" she asked them,

"What do you mean?" asked Michelangelo, "_You_ managed to get here, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you guys have never been here before." Tawny replied,

"That obvious?" Raphael asked,

"Afraid so." Tawny smiled, half sheepishly, "Not to mention, nunchucks over there is _loud_." she pointed to the turtle in the orange mask.

Michelangelo grinned apologetically at the two of them.

"By the way, congratulations on making the cut." she said, "You're doing pretty good...for a couple of newbies." she smiled lazily,

"I didn't see you in the finalist line up." Raphael retaliated, "So you can hardly talk."

Tawny chuckled, "That's because I'm not competing." she told them,

"How come?" asked Michelangelo, "You not good enough?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice,

"Oh, trust me, I'm good enough." Tawny replied, "I pass the qualifying round every time."

"What?" Michelangelo asked, confused,

"Every time the Tournament crops up, I enter the qualifying round. Every time I pass, but I never compete. Training for the actual Tournament would take valuable time away from...more important matters."

"You mean your brother." said Raphael,

"Primarily, yes." Tawny replied, "I'm not sure if I told you, but I now have reason to believe that several children were taken." she was silent for a moment, "But _that_ is a topic for another time." she smiled,

"Oh?" asked Raphael,

"Oh." she answered, "Every year, I come here for a week. To relax...sometimes I visit my masters and refine my training...that sort of thing."

"So you're on holiday?" Michelangelo asked,

"For lack of a better term, yes." Tawny answered. Then she grinned, "Fancy a tour?"

Michelangelo and Raphael thought for a moment, "Why not." Raphael said eventually, "Maybe shell-for-brains over here'll shut up for five minutes."

"From what you and Donatello have told me, I doubt it." she replied wryly. She turned and walked away, beckoning them to follow, "Come on," she said, "I know the best place to start."

* * *

"So," said Raphael, "How long have you lived here?" they were walking through the Nexus gardens, which were full of weird and wonderful plants. It was beautiful and strange. By "best place to start" it seemed that Tawny had meant the gardens, and granted, it _was_ very pretty, but neither Raphael nor Michelangelo were particularly interested in nature.

However, it seemed that Tawny wasn't particularly either, as she was walking through the gardens with barely a second glance at the flowers. Upon hearing Raphael's question, she paused, "For as long as I've been training." she answered eventually,

"And you've been training _how_ long?" Raphael prompted, he hated riddles.

"It depends on what you mean by that." Tawny confessed, scratching her head, "It's either four years...or fourteen."

"That's...quite a margin." Raphael replied, "How'd you end up with _that_?"

"Well," she began, "When I first came to the Nexus, and later to my masters' dimension, I lived and trained there for fourteen years."

"Okay." said Raphael. That explained how she was so talented in the art of the samurai. It also explained how she was on par with (and possibly better than) the turtles in terms of skill - they had started training at age five, so she had a three-year advantage over them. _But_ she had started part-way through adolescence, which helped even the odds in the turtles' favour. It was much easier to learn a skill as a child than as an adolescent.

"Then, one day," she continued, "I woke up to find that ten of those years had just...gone." she snapped her fingers to accent her point, "Like they had never been. Everyone had memory of those years, but they never seemed to have happened. I've lived for twenty-eight years mentally, but only eighteen physically."

"Weird." Raphael said, but it did explain why she seemed much older than she was - rather like how he and his brothers seemed. "Do you know how that happened?" he asked,

"No clue." she replied, "One day, I woke up, and it was ten years earlier than the day before."

"You know, Donnie said something about time slips a while ago." cut in Michelangelo, "It might've been that."

"Time-what?" asked Raphael,

"Time slips." Michelangelo repeated. There was a pause as he screwed up his face and tried to remember, "He said that because all the dimensions are crammed together, and we're traveling thousands of miles in a single step, that time in the Nexus gets a little thrown out sometimes." he paused, "He also said they're nothing to worry about." he added.

Raphael gaped. Michelangelo usually had a memory similar to a colander, and now he was remembering scientific theories? Granted, it was a highly simplified one, but nonetheless Raphael was surprised. And (though he would never admit it) rather _proud_ of his little brother.

"Impressive." Tawny remarked clearly thinking along the same lines as Raphael. As she spoke, she didn't turning back to face them, instead focusing on the way she was walking. They had walked right through the gardens, and were now on a street. The Nexus gardens ran all the way around the market streets, separating the town part of the Nexus from the housing part, where everyone lived. "You always struck me as the 'lovable idiot' one." she remarked, not unkindly.

"He has his moments." Raphael told her, "...apparently." he added,

"Should I be offended?" Michelangelo asked, "I think I should be offended."

"Take it however you want." Tawny replied, smiling. They rounded a corner and the two turtles saw their 'tour guide' point to a small house at the end of the road.

"Brooklyn, Nunchucks," she said, "Welcome to my humble abode."

On the outside, it looked like every other house that stood on the street, but once the three of them were inside, Raphael and Michelangelo discovered that they had been quite wrong.

Tawny's house was clearly meant for only one person. It had only four rooms. A bathroom, a kitchen-slash-dining-room, a bedroom and a living room (of sorts). Inside the house were several modern artifacts. Nothing electrical, as the Nexus had no form of electricity, but still many things that were marked as from Dimension 3rd Earth. Namely, a violin. It was by no means a new object, showing at least ten years of use, but the wooden body had the glow of something that was cherished and cared for. Among other things were some books clearly written and published in 3rd Earth, and, when Raphael stumbled into Tawny's bedroom by accident, he saw an old, worn, but clearly very loved teddy bear sitting on the bed.

In the living room, on the sofa, was Tawny's duffel bag, and one of her sai rested beside it. The other sai was stuck into a target on the wall. Next to the target, suspended from the rafters, was a punchbag. Both the punchbag and the target had several shuriken sticking out of them. Pinned to the wall by another shuriken, was a picture of a boy. He looked about nine, with jet black hair and very-dark-brown eyes. He could have been anyone, but upon closer inspection the two amphibians saw that he looked very familiar to Tawny, despite his colouring. Something about the line of his jaw, his smile, and the tone of his skin that was identical to Tawny's.

"My brother." she told them, "When he was eight years old." she stroked the picture fondly,

"What's his name?" asked Michelangelo,

"Luke." she replied, smiling sadly, "He was an annoying little bugger. When he was younger I barely got a moment's peace..." she sighed, "But he always knew how to make me smile when I was feeling down." she bowed her head, and since she was turned away from the turtles, towards the picture, they couldn't tell if she was crying or not.

Raphael stepped forwards and put a hand on her shoulder, "Look..." he told her, "You know the deal you offered? You help us with the Shredder, and we'll do all we can to get him back safe."

"Mm hmm." Tawny replied. Despite her apparent indifference to the verdict when she had first offered the deal, her brow creased in worry as Raphael spoke.

"Well," Raphael continued, "Me and Mikey were talking, and we decided that if Leo don't take your offer, we will."

Tawny's head jerked up in surprise, "What?" she asked, the word a half whisper,

"We need as much help with the Shredder as possible, that's obvious." he said, "But you need help finding your brother. And both me and Mikey know it ain't right to sit there, knowing we could do something about it, but still do nothing. Right, Mikey?" he turned to his brother,

"Right." he said sincerely. Tawny turned back to the two of them, and though she had seemed on the verge of tears, her amber eyes were dry.

"___Dōmo_ _arigatō_." she said to them, smiling slightly,

"_Kinishinaide_." Raphael replied, smiling back.

Michelangelo, however, merely looked confused. Splinter was the only one of their family who spoke Japanese fluently, and had taught a great deal of it to Leonardo (as he had actually shown an interest) Raphael and Donatello had picked up various useful phrases over the years (such as the aforementioned "thank you" and "don't worry about it"), but Michelangelo was completely at a loss when any language other than English was spoken.

"So," said Mikey, trying to steer the conversation back to the English language, "Even if Leo and Donnie say no, you'll have two highly skilled ninjas on your side."

Tawny chuckled softly, "Thanks, Mikey." she said. She took a deep breath and then continued, "Anyway, do you guys want something to eat? I bet the Championship resumes soon - and trust me, you don't want to be running on empty."

She was about to continue when she heard a knock at the door. Confused, she stood up, "One sec, guys..." and she answered the door. Raphael and Michelangelo sat down on the sofa as she answered the door, and leant forwards to try and see who was there.

"Gen?" was the astonished greeting when she opened the door. Standing there was the same rhinoceros that had tried to get Raphael and Michelangelo to bet on him in the Championship.

"So," the rhino said, "Last chance. What do you say?"

Tawny's reply was in a tired voice, but nonetheless good natured, "Gen, I told you before." she said, "I'm not betting on you."

"Wise move," said Michelangelo, "Because _I'm_ gonna win."

There was a moment of incredulous silence, before both Raphael and Gennosuke (for that was the rhino's full name) burst out laughing.

"You laugh now!" Michelangelo proclaimed, "But just you wait! By the end of the day, I'll have the Battle Nexus Medal hanging around my neck."

"The prize is a trophy, nunchucks." Tawny said bluntly, sending Gennosuke and Raphael into stitches once more. Tawny grinned, "Then again, you have as much a chance of winning as those two," she pointed to the pair who were now using each other as props for standing, their laughter making them weak at the legs, "Because _I'm_ not competing."

Gennosuke snorted, "There's no chance you'll win, _joji_." he said, "_I_ have decades of training under my belt."

"Perhaps," Tawny replied, "But I was trained by Miyamoto, was I not?" she gestured to the daishō at her belt and smiled challengingly at him, "Not to mention, I'm _far_ lighter and swifter than you."

"Hey, hey, hey!" said Raphael grinning competatively, "Since when are me and Mikey out of the running?"

"You're amateurs." Gennosuke told them, "There's no way you could win against a bounty hunter of _my_ skill."

"Maybe, but what makes _you_ so good?" asked Michelangelo, turning to Tawny, "I've only ever seen you fight Leo."

"Are you asking for a duel?" Tawny inquired, the light in her eyes dancing with glee. It was the same light Michelangelo saw in Raphael's eyes just before a big fight, but that didn't deter him - a love for battle is very different to a talent for battle.

"Why not." Michelangelo agreed. "You're on,"

"Okay." said Tawny, and she turned to Raphael and Gennosuke, "Don't bother sitting, boys. This won't take long." quickly. she stretched her arms.

Raphael turned to Gennosuke, "Mikey's actually pretty good," he said, "He's beaten me a couple times. Do you reckon Tawny'll beat him?"

"How many times have you seen her in a fair fight?" Gennosuke said, answering Raphael's question with a question of his own.

"Like, one on one?"

"Yes." the rhino confirmed, "How many times?"

"Just once." Raphael told him,

"Who was she batting against?"

"My big brother, Leo."

"Is he a talented warrior?"

"Yeah, we all are."

"And who triumphed?" asked Gennosuke,

"Tawny." Raphael answered,

"I see." he paused, "My money is on _joji_."

"_Joji_?" Raphael asked. Gennosuke had called her that before, and it was clearly a phrase in Japanese. However, what it translated to, he couldn't say. Leonardo might have known, but he wasn't here.

"I believe it translates to _girl child_ in your language, reptile." Gennosuke replied, "I have called her that ever since she first arrived in my dimension - for she never told us her real name. She adopted the name 'Tawny' a few months after my friend took her in."

At this point, of course, Raphael did not know who Gennosuke's friend was. He did knew not that Gennosuke's friend was a samurai of incredible skill, that he was currently tending to Leonardo's ailments, that his name was Miyamoto Usagi or that he was one of Tawny's masters (though, of course, being a _yojimbo - _bodyguard for hire - and a ronin, Tawny had not trained under him full time).

"How would you like me to beat you?" asked Tawny, grinning at Michelangelo, "With or without weapons?"

"With." said Michelangelo, grinning back. All the banter was entirely in good spirit, though he _was_ interested to see how well this girl fought - her confrontation with Leonardo had not been very long, and Leonardo's judgement (as well as his skill in battle) easily became very clouded when he was angry. "That levels the playing field...for you."

Tawny smiled as she drew her katana. Michelangelo took out his nunchucks, tucking one end from each set under his arm, and holding the other end in his hand. "Your call, Brooklyn." Tawny said, once they were both ready.

"Er, okay..." Raphael replied, "3, 2, 1...go?"

When Raphael said go, Tawny ran forwards with her katana, making a large sweep at Michelangelo's feet. Predictably, he jumped this, flipped over in the air, and landed behind her. He flung out his nunchucks to hit her shoulder, but too soon she turned, raising her sword and catching the chain, which wrapped itself around the blade. But before Michelangelo could pull on the nunchucks (and therefore, pull Tawny's katana from her hand) Tawny grabbed the nunchuck-end that Michelangelo was not holding, and pulled her sword sharply upwards, thus wrenching the set of nunchucks from his grasp. Tawny removed them from her blade, and threw them carelessly behind her. They flew across the room and landed in the corner.

"Sure you don't want to call it off?" she asked, smiling. Michelangelo shook his head,

"No a chance." he replied, but he was smiling too. Losing didn't bug him as much as it did Raphael. Though they both loved new and challenging fights, Michelangelo didn't mind as much if he lost.

"Suit yourself." said Tawny, she made another large sweep at Michelangelo, but he jumped back easily, sending Tawny very nearly off balance. Once she regained her footing, she looked and saw Michelangelo, one hand spinning his remaining set of nunchucks, the other outstretched, as if to say _c__ome and get me_. Tawny positioned her katana below and behind her, and made another run at him. As she lifted her sword and made to strike him, he stopped spinning his nunchucks, instead, his other hand grabbed the spinning end, and the chain in between caught the blade.

"Not bad..." said Tawny, her voice tight with concentration and effort,

"Not bad yourself," Michelangelo replied, his voice equally tight, They were both very strong, and it was far more likely that the chain of Michelangelo's nunchucks, or the blade of Tawny's katana would break before either of the combatants did.

Suddenly, Tawny lent back, and Michelangelo, now unbalanced, fell forwards. He had barely touched the floor, however, when he was back on his feet. He flung up his nunchucks. Once again, the chain wrapped around the katana's blade. However, this time, he caught Tawny by surprise, and so he succeeded in disarming her. The sword clattered to the ground behind them, and Raphael smiled smugly at Gennosuke. In response, the rhino merely held up a finger and pointed back to the fight,

"It is not over yet, reptile." he told Raphael.

Tawny smiled at Michelangelo, in a way that said _impressive_, as she drew her tantō. They were once again evenly matched.

This time, Tawny waited for Michelangelo to attack. Soon enough, he did. He ran at her, nunchucks spinning, and made for a head blow. Quicker than Raphael and Gennosuke could blink, she spun out of Michelangelo's path, so she was facing away from him. She had left her blade up, causing the chain to wrap around it. Because the tantō's blade was shorter, it was stronger and more rigid, which allowed Tawny to swing the sword over her head, taking Michelangelo and his remaining set of nunchucks with it. He crashed to the floor, his nunchucks still wrapped around Tawny's tantō. She removed them, cast them aside, and pointed the blade at Michelangelo's head.

"I win." she smiled. She then sheathed her tantō. She outstretched a hand, and helped Michelangelo to his feet. Both were breathing heavily, "You're good." she said to Michelangelo,

"Apparently, not as good as you." he replied,

Tawny chuckled breathlessly, "We all have our good and our bad days." she told him, passing the nunchucks she had thrown aside only moments before.

"What did I tell you, reptile?" said Gennosuke, "_Joji_."

"She's good, I grant you." said Raphael, "But I bet she couldn't take _me_."

"Did you not say earlier that your brother - whom just lost against her - has beaten you before?"

"Yeah, but _I've_ beaten _him_ before, too." Raphael pointed out,

"Well, as much as I would like to see _joji_ triumph over you too, I must return to the Arena, I believe the Tournament is to resume soon." With that, Gennosuke bid goodbye to Tawny, Michelangelo and Raphael, and made his way back outside, down Bazaar street, and in the direction of the Nexus Arena.

Tawny turned back to the turtles,

"I think Gen was right, guys." she said, "The Tournament is about to resume." She went over to her duffel bag, and stuffed her sai into it. She them pulled out a peculiarly shaped blade. It was triangular at one end, and had a loop through the other, where a strip of black-and-gold cloth (the same cloth that hilted her weapons) was tied.

"What's that?" Michelangelo asked, vaguely remembering seeing Splinter carry one.

"A kunai." she replied, "In the Quarter Finals of the Tournament, they're used for picking opponents, but they are also used as a sort of identification." she tied the kunai to her belt, leaving it hanging there in plain view, "This _should_ get me into the arena, I intend to watch the remainder of the Tournament."

"To watch me win?" asked Michelangelo,

"Perhaps." said Tawny, "You've already gone up against the most formidable warrior in the Tournament, so I'd say your chances are pretty high." she smiled knowingly,

Michelangelo laughed, "Yeah, yeah," he said, "I know you're good but-" he was cut off as Tawny continued,

"I wasn't talking about myself." she said, "I meant your master, Hamato Splinter."

"You've heard of him?" asked Raphael,

"Who _hasn't_?" Tawny countered, "he _did_ win the last Tournament, you know." she then looked at them with mock annoyance, "What I can't believe is that you guys didn't tell me!"

"In our defence, we didn't know until earlier today." said Raphael, "Shell, we didn't even know about the _Nexus_ until earlier today."

"Fair enough." Tawny replied "But you _have_ to introduce me back in 3rd Earth," she said, "My masters all speak _very_ highly of him - one of them has even has the pleasure of meeting him."

But she shrugged as she lead the two turtles back onto the Bazaar street. She bade them goodbye, and as they watched her head for the Battle Arena, Michelangelo turned to Raphael and muttered, "So much for her holiday."

* * *

"I can't believe I lost to a _girl_." said Michelangelo lamented, (as always) only half serious. He and Raphael were once again walking through the market place,

"It don't matter right now." said Raphael, "Now lets go find Leo, Don and Splinter."

"Right!" Michelangelo replied, "We wouldn't want them to miss my incredible Battle Nexus triumph!" he then proceeded to sing,

"_Float like a butterfly_,  
_Sting like a bee,  
Who be the turtle?  
The turtle be _me_!_"

Unfortunately, Michelangelo wasn't looking where he was going, and ended up bumping into a sales cart, sending rather foul smelling gunk (apparently, it was food) over one of the Battle Nexus Finalists.

"Oops..." Michelangelo muttered,

The small purple finalist started muttering angrily at them; it was not a language either of them understood, but Raphael (rather correctly) stated, "Sounds like the universal language of '_I'm gonna kick your butt_' to me."

Michelangelo, rather idiotically, leant over and started prodding the finalist, "Yeah?" he said, "Well, if you weren't such a puny little shrimp, I'd show you how a _real_ Battle Nexus Champion fights."

The next thing he knew, the purple finalist had grown to nearly double Michelangelo's size, and did _not_ look happy. He grabbed Michelangelo by the belt, bringing him up to eye level. Michelangelo tried to cop off his statement as a term of endearment, and looked to Raphael for help.

"If you're looking for help from _me_, you're looking in the wrong place, Mikey." he replied, grinning darkly. He _was_ enjoying getting to see his baby brother's ego get deflated a little, but make no mistake: he _would_ step in if things got too out of hand. This guy was double Michelangelo's size, after all.

However, (much to Michelangelo's relief) the Gyoji then appeared, "Attend!" he told them, "Attend! The final stage of the Battle Nexus Tournament is about to begin!"

Just as Raphael, Michelangelo and the other finalist (named 'Kluh') were being transported back to the arena, Raphael caught sight of Tawny running in the streets. She didn't see him at first, however, she caught sight of the Gyoji (who wouldn't?) and then, of Raphael. She smiled at him as he vanished in the flash of white light. "Good luck!" she called to him.

"You're gonna need it." she muttered to herself, after Raphael and Michelangelo had vanished.

* * *

Later, after Raphael's rather humiliating defeat against Michelangelo (though frankly, humiliating was an understatement), Traximus persuaded him to join him for a "Serosion liquid protein supplement" which turned out to be the Nexus equivalent of beer.

Halfway through his third, Raphael explained his predicament to Traximus. The were sitting on a sort of terrace, like the second floor of a restaurant.

"He might _actually_ win this thing!" Raphael cried, "I'll never be able to live that down! _Never_!"

"Oooh, seems you're in a pickle, Brooklyn." came a voice. Raphael looked around, but he couldn't see Tawny. Confused, and fairly convinced he was hearing things, he turned back to Traximus, only to be met with Tawny's face a mere four inches away from his own.

"Boo." she grinned wickedly.

Raphael yelled and leapt back, nearly knocking over his protein supplement. Tawny had been hanging from the edge of the terrace roof, rather like Spiderman, but without the tights. When Raphael had turned, she had lowered herself so she had been hanging - upside-down - right in front of him. She jumped down from the roof edge and onto the terrace.

"Hi, Trax." she smiled, raising a hand to the Triceraton.

"Hello, Tawny." he smiled,

"Trax?" said Raphael, "You know him?"

Tawny turned to him, "I live here." she reminded him, "And, contrary to how I operate in 3rd Earth, I _do_ have friends." she smiled at Traximus, then turned back to Raphael, "By the way," she said, "I saw your 'fight' against Michelangelo." She made air-quotes with her fingers when she said 'fight' and smiled slyly as Raphael's face burned in shame. He let his head fall forwards and hit the table. He groaned something unintelligible as Tawny and Traximus laughed.

"Sorry, what?" asked Tawny innocently,

"I thought you were gonna watch the Tournament." he repeated irritably, sitting up properly again and taking a sulky drink from his protein supplement.

"I was, but after seeing your fight - if you can call it that -" she added, earning a glare from Raphael, "- against Michelangelo, I wanted to see how you were dealing with losing." she glanced at him, "I heard you knocked out another contestant by accident." she said, smiling wryly, "It seems you're as gracious in defeat as you are in success."

Whilst Tawny and Traximus chuckled, Raphael grumbled into his drink, but made no actual comment. He watched as Tawny pulled the kunai from her belt. She turned it over in her hand, watching the gold Japanese embellishments on the fabric, and the silver metal of the blade, glint in the bright sunlight.

She sighed, "Well, I've poked fun at Brooklyn," she said, "So I think I'll return to the Tournament. I want to see how Michelangelo does." With that, she bade them goodbye.

"She's a strange one, that one." Raphael said to Traximus,

"Perhaps," the Triceraton replied, "But she has a good heart." just then a waitress arrived with another set of drinks, "This one's on me, Raphael." he said,

* * *

"Michelangelo of Dimension 3rd Earth, I crown you, Battle Nexus Champion!" declared the Daimyo. Michelangelo took the trophy and held it above his head, laughing with glee. Splinter smiled fondly as he walked off to talk with the Daimyo in private for a moment,

"I just can't believe I actually won!" Michelangelo cried,

"That makes two of us." said Raphael sourly,

"Aw, don't be so bitter, Brooklyn." said Tawny. Raphael jumped, he could have sworn she hadn't been standing there a moment ago,

"Seriously, how do you keep _doing_ that?" he asked,

"Doing what?" she replied, confused. Raphael shrugged it off,

"Never mind." he said,

"Suit yourself." Tawny replied. At that point, her gaze traveled to Usagi, and she noticed him for the first time. Her eyes widened, and she rushed over to him. Her face was now very serious, and she reminded the turtles less of Raphael and (maybe) Michelangelo, and more of Leonardo. Her expression was solemn and respectful as she approached the anthropomorphic rabbit.

"Master," she said, "Are you alright? I saw the portal, but I couldn't get there in time...I was not able to help you and your friends fight Drako..." she knelt before the anthropomorphic rabbit, "I am sorry, master." she said, bowing her head, "I have failed you."

"It is true that you were not able to help us, but the rest is nonsense, _joji_." said Usagi kindly, "You are too hard on yourself. Drako is defeated, is he not? And from what I gather, you are well on your way to rescuing several children in your home dimension."

"I have not yet succeeded, master." Tawny said grudgingly,

"Be patient, _joji_." Usagi replied, extending a hand to Tawny and helping her to stand. He put a hand on her shoulder as he continued, "You will find them."

During this short exchange between master and student, all four of the turtles had turned to face them, gaping.

"Wait..." said Leonardo, addressing Tawny incredulously, "_Usagi _is your master?"

"One of them." she corrected.

Leonardo stared at her in disbelief, however, that did explain why she used daishō swords. Tawny looked back at him, but her gaze was not of incredulity, but confusion, "Why are you so surprised?"

"Well...Usagi's so honorable...so traditional...and you..." he stopped, realising that he was only digging himself a grave, "I mean..." he cleared his throat, struggling to find a less offensive way of covering his disbelief. Tawny laughed it off.

"Don't worry, sword-boy." she said, "I know that you're not the fondest of me." she smiled, "I'll see you guys later, I expect." she said, and she made to leave.

"Wait!" said Leonardo, and Tawny turned back towards him.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking confused when Leonardo huddled his brother's together. He muttered something to them, but Tawny was too far away to hear it.

"...if Usagi's her master, then she must be trustworthy, he saved my life."

"Well," said Michelangelo, "Me and Raph are up for it." Leonardo looked to Raphael, who nodded in confirmation.

"So am I." added Donatello,

"Then it's agreed." concluded Leonardo. The four broke their huddle and turned back to Tawny.

"Yeah?" she asked again,

"Well," Leonardo began, "If your offer...about information regarding the Foot...if that offer's still open..." he said,

"It is." she told him,

"We'd like to...we'd like to accept it." he said,

Tawny seemed to let out a breath, although she hadn't looked to be holding one. She smiled, relieved, "Really?" she asked,

"Really." Donatello smiled, "You get us what info you can about Shredder..."

"...and in return, we'll be your team when you get your brother back." said Raphael,

Usagi turned to his student, "What did I say, _joji_?" he asked, "Have patience. I have been lucky enough to witness Leonardo in combat, and trust me when I say he is a valuable ally."

Tawny bowed, "As always, master," she said, "I trust you implicitly." she turned to the turtles, placed her left fist in her right palm, and bowed to them, "I'll see you back in 3rd Earth." she said, and then she left.

"It was an honour battling beside you and your brothers, Leonardo." said Usagi, "I hope that some day our paths will cross again." There was a slight mischievousness to his smile as he said this. It was very obvious, if his student was spending time with them, that they would almost certainly meet again.

"It is _I_ who is honoured, Usagi." replied Leonardo, "You saved my life."

Before they could continue, the Daimyo and Splinter reappeared. The four turtles clustered around their master, and the Daimyo rested his war staff upon Michelangelo's trophy.

"Farewell." said the Daimyo, "And good battle to you all." The turtles called their goodbyes as the water bubble surrounded them.

"See you."

"Later."

"Ta-ta for now."

"Goodbye."

The last thing Usagi saw of his newest friends was a blue bubble, then they were gone. Once the Daimyo had bid his goodbye to Usagi, Tawny reappeared.

"You're still here?" said Usagi, not unkindly, "I thought you had left."

"My apologies, master." Tawny replied, "I merely wanted to see my...my new allies off."

"I was not complaining, _joji_, merely observing." Usagi paused, "But why do so in secret? Are they not your friends? You seemed quite friendly with Raphael."

"Perhaps, master." Tawny answered, somewhat sheepishly, "But to them, this may simply be an agreement."

"Ah yes, they said they were to take you up on your offer." Usagi noted, "What offer was that, exactly?"

"I need a team to get into the Shredder's building, master." she told him, "And the turtles are probably the most skilled at doing so. In return for valuable information about the Shredder's plans, they are going to help me get the files I need to find my brother, and the other children."

Usagi thought this over for a moment, "I am not saying the turtles are not trustworthy," he began, "But have you not infiltrated the Shredder's building before, alone?"

"That is true, master," Tawny admitted, "But the files I need are under a much more severe guard. It would be impossible for only one person. After all, I am only human."

"Perhaps," said Usagi, "But you also happen to be my student." he smiled at her, a smile Tawny returned. "Come, _joji_," he said, "Maybe we can fit in a few hours of daishō training before I return to 2nd Earth."

"I would like that very much, master." Tawny replied, and the unusual duo made their way back through the Bazaar street, up to Tawny's house. The Nexus, now that the Tournament was finished, was very quiet and calm. Some would consider it lonely, but Tawny, who often spent nights on the noisy streets of Manhattan, found it rather calm. It reminded her of her home in Britain, the one she had lived in until she was thirteen.

The one she had lived in before her parents were killed and her brother was captured.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - After "Touch and Go"**

* * *

"Who's there?" came an elderly voice, and slowly, Mrs Morrison answered her door,

"Hey, Mrs M!" Raphael answered, his voice bright and pleasant, a far cry from his normal gruff growl, "It's me, Raphael!" he held up the briefcase and got straight to the point, "I found this case on your doorstep," he told her, "It's, er...It's full of money."

Mrs Morrison gasped, "Who could have done such a thing?" she asked, as Raphael handed her the case. He smiled knowingly,

"Know what I think?" he said, "I think you've got a guardian angel, who wants to see you stay right where you belong." And it was true. As long as he was around, eh would make sure no harm came to this wonderful woman and her cat, two of the few creatures (to whom he was not related) who enjoyed his company and made him feel wanted.

Mrs Morrison smiled warmly, "It seems that I do, dear." she said sincerely, smiling at Raphael, "Thank you for telling me about this." she held up the case,

Raphael's brow creased in confusion, "What do you mean?" he asked,

Mrs Morrison sighed, "Some people would have just taken the case and run." she said, "After all, I _am_ old and blind."

Raphael put a hand on her shoulder, "Well, I can promise that nothing bad is gonna happen to you." he said, "Not while I'm around."

The kind old woman smiled, "Thank you, Raphael." she told him, smiling fondly, "I would invite you in, but it's already quite late, and like I said before, it's a school night."

Raphael smiled at her. The fact that, if he were human he would be attending school, somehow made him chuckle. Other sixteen-year-old kids were shut up in stuffy classrooms, learning how to find the side of a triangle, whilst he and his brothers practiced their ninjutsu. His opinion on which option was better varied from time to tome, but it was mostly the latter that he favoured. "Yes ma'am." he said, "I was just heading home."

Mrs Morrison patted the hand on her shoulder, "Come visit soon, dear." she said,

"I will." he replied, and the woman shut the door.

Lucy the cat, however, was still outside, She wound herself around Raphael's ankles, purring loudly.

"Well, hey there." he said fondly, scooping the cat up.

"Hey yourself." came a reply, most certainly _not_ the cat. Raphael nearly dropped the poor feline in surprise,

"_DUDE_!" he cried, half angry, half surprised,

"Guess again." Tawny replied. Raphael turned around and, sure enough, Tawny was perched, almost catlike, on the fire-escape. She jumped down and landed on the ground silently, before walking over to him. her hood was down, her mask was on, and her hair was back in a ponytail. Her side fringe was down over her face, covering one eye. She pushed it out of said eye impatiently, as she spoke.

"Sorry about that." she said, "I heard your voice, so I thought it'd be easier to come here than walk halfway across town to your lair." there was a pause, then Tawny spoke again, but this time, far more affectionately. "Aw, hey there, cutie! Aren't you _gorgeous_!"

Raphael blushed and grinned awkwardly. He cleared his throat, "Er, look, Tawny..." he said, "You're nice and all, but...you're human, and I'm-" he was cut off by a look. It was half _are you serious?_ and half _don't get ahead of yourself_.

"I was talking to the cat." she told him bluntly. He then noticed that the feel of Lucy's soft, warm, fuzzy body had left him, and he saw a white smudge around Tawny's legs.

"Oh..." he replied, grinning nervously. Tawny rolled her eyes, bent down and stroked Lucy between the ears. The cat wound herself around the legs of the two warriors before dashing back inside Mrs Morrison's flat through the cat-flap.

"That was really sweet, y'know." Tawny told him,

"What was?" Raphael asked, momentarily scared that she might _actually_ have feelings for him, and meant his comment about her being nice. _Oh shell. Oh shell. Oh she-_

"Giving the money to Mrs Morrison." she clarified, and Raphael's panic dissipated, _never mind... _"Most people would have taken the money and ran."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I ain't most people."

"_Touche_." Tawny replied. But then her smile sobered, "Anyway, back to business, I came here to warn you."

There was a pause, then: "Did I miss something?" Raphael asked, "'cause I haven't seen you since the Battle Nexus Tournament." He had no idea where '_I came here to warn you_' had come from.

"No, you didn't miss anything." she said, "Though _I_ on the other hand, did." she looked around, one eyebrow raised. "I came back from the Nexus five days after you left. And I came back to find New York city trashed!"

"Triceratons, Fugitoid, don't ask." he replied bluntly,

"Don't need to." she answered, "I heard everything from Trax."

That raised two questions for Raphael, number one, "Traximus? I thought he returned to the Triceraton homeworld."

"He did." Tawny replied, "Chalk and gibberish, remember?" she smiled, quoting Raphael from when she had encountered him and Michelangelo in the Nexus. "He told me everything. I just wish I'd been there to help."

His first question answered, he moved on to his second, "If you knew about the war with Dr Honeycutt, why were you so surprised to find New York trashed?"

"Hearing about something, and actually _seeing_ it are two _very_ different things, Brooklyn." she told him, "Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about the alien invasion, I came here to uphold my part of the bargain."

"What?" Raphael's mind blanked. With everything that had gone on in recent days, he had forgotten completely about the deal he and his brothers had made with Tawny. So, she refreshed his memory,

"I give you what info I can about the Shredder, you and your brothers are my team for finding the captured kids."

"_Oh_." Raphael answered, remembering, "So what's the warning? Weapons? More Foot?" there was a pause, "Did you get hold of Karai's diary?" he asked incredulously, remembering that she had stated she was able to get it, when she had first met (and fought) Leonardo and his other two brothers.

"No, no and _what_?"

"Just covering all bases." Raphael shrugged nonchalantly,

Tawny looked at him, mildly concerned. Then she seemed to push that aside as she spoke. "New blood." she told him,

"What?"

"The Foot have hired a new scientist." Tawny said, "Stockman's obviously going a bit downhill, so they've got a new genius on the scene."

"Do you know what he's up to?"

"'fraid not." she confessed, "I only got a glance at the blueprints before security decided to show up. All I know is that it's big and sharp."

"That ain't so bad."

"I beg to differ." Tawny said, and Raphael suddenly realised that she was holding her arm in a very strange way.

"What's wrong with your arm?" he asked, pointing,

"Like I said, I beg to differ." she replied, "I ran into a prototype of whatever that new scientist is creating, and it got me." she moved her arm and winced, a trickle of blood peaking out from under her sleeve, trailing it's way along her hand and dripping onto the concrete. "I'll be fine." she said, waving her other hand nonchalantly, "A few stitches and I'll be good as new. I've done it before, no biggie."

"There's no way I'm letting you stitch yourself up in the street." Raphael exclaimed, "It's bound to get infected."

"_Let_ me?" Tawny asked dangerously, her eyes flashed, "You don't _let_ me do anything."

"Don't matter," Raphael told her, a hint of a growl to his voice, "You _ain't_ stitching yourself up. Besides, it's your right arm, how're you gonna stitch it up with your left hand?" he folded his arms and smiled smugly,

"This is my _left_ arm, genius." she replied. Raphael's smug smile vanished, but he pressed further.

"Even so, you should just go to the hospital." He protested, "You do it in the street and it _will_ get infected. The ER'll fix you up properly."

"No. I can't risk being seen or recognised. The Foot have eyes _everywhere_." she looked at him earnestly, "I'll be _fine_." she said, "I'm going back to the Nexus, and I'll stitch myself there."

"Oh no, you ain't." said Raphael, "I don't care what you say, you're coming with me." and before Tawny could protest, he had her round the legs and she was slung over his shoulder. Tawny sighed but made no move to resist - it would only damage her arm more, and (though she was loathe to admit it) Raphael was probably right about the infection thing. Not to mention, at least this time she didn't have a bag over her head. Raphael picked up her duffel bag with his free hand and marched off down the street.

* * *

Raphael refused to put Tawny down for the whole journey home. Even after she promised she would follow him and not make a run for it. He carried her all the way to the warehouse on Eastman and Laird, even in the Y'Lyntian elevator. Tawny's feet didn't touch the ground until Raphael put her down in the lair and firmly told her to _sit still, and don't move a muscle_. Michelangelo watched this spectacle with some amusement, and couldn't help but think of Princess Peach and Bowser.

"_DONNIE_!" Raphael yelled, (not angrily) through the lair,

"Yeah?" a large pair of magnification glasses peered out from the lab, followed by a green body. Donatello eyes, behind these glasses, were blown to insane - and hilarious - proportions. He was evidently in the middle of some delicate soldering work, "What is it, Raph?" he asked, "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"_Really_?" Raphael asked sarcastically, "You're _busy_? You ain't wearing those just for fun?"

Donatello sighed and pushed up the magnification lenses, letting his eyes shrink back to their normal size. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly,

"Stitch job." Raphael answered, "Tawny's arm got cut."

"But my tongue didn't, Brooklyn." she said, slightly irritable now, "Really, I'll be _fine_. I've stitched myself up before, I can do it again."

Donatello looked alarmed at this, he knew that incorrect stitch jobs could often cause more problems than they solved, "Care to show me where?" he asked. In response, Tawny shrugged off her duffel bag and hoodie. Taking off her jacket was particularly difficult, and required Donatello's help. Once he saw the state her arm was in, he relented.

"Never mind the healed ones..." he said, "This needs attention _now_." he turned to Michelangelo, "I'm gonna need warm water, a clean cloth, rubbing alcohol, bandages, surgical thread and a sterile needle_, stat_!" he cried. Michelangelo and Raphael hurried off to fetch what he had asked for.

The cut was on the inside of Tawny's left forearm. The knife, or whatever it was that had cut her, had entered Tawny's arm between the two bones of her forearm. It was a fairly serious cut, but not particularly deep, as Tawny, being a girl of average size and weight, had but a few centimeters of flesh around her radius and ulna. Luckily the main veins and arteries were unharmed, as the cut was closer to Tawny's elbow than her wrist. From the characteristics of the cut, Donatello could deduce that it had been a very sharp, very thin blade. Thankfully, most of the cut had been so bloody that it had clotted quickly, and blood loss had been quite minor.

Raphael only caught a glimpse of Tawny's "cut" before Donatello ordered him out for supplies. He was now _incredibly_ relieved he had pressed for Tawny to come and get it stitched up properly. To say she had understated the seriousness of the wound would be an understatement in itself.

"What _did_ this?" Donatello asked, holding up her forearm gingerly,

"Some large robot prototype." she replied, shrugging, "I ran into it whilst in the Foot building." Though the turtles did not know it yet, what Tawny had encountered was an early version of a Karai Legion Bot.

"Look, Tawny..." Donatello said, "We agreed that you would tell us what you could about the Shredder, but don't get yourself _killed_."

"I don't plan on it." Tawny replied, "I just didn't see that..._thing_ coming."

"Hmm." Donatello remained someone unconvinced, but he didn't press further. He instead he returned his attention to her arm. The bleeding had more or less stopped, but the clotted blood only made the wound look worse.

At this point, Raphael and Michelangelo returned with the items that Donatello had earlier requested. Carefully, Donatello eased off her black skateboarding glove and threw it into the bucket of water. Tawny lent forward and reached for the rubbing alcohol, but Donatello slapped her hand away.

"Ow." she said, more out of surprise than actual pain, "What was that for?" there was a pause, then she seemed to get it, "_Seriously_?" she exclaimed, "First you don't let me go to the Nexus and do it myself, now I can't do it myself _at all_?"

"It's safer if it's done by someone else." Donatello told her. Tawny scowled,

"I never had this problem with my masters." she grumbled, "They didn't start World War III over a little scratch."

Michelangelo spluttered incredulously at this, "A little scratch?" he exclaimed, "Seriously? A..._a little scratch_?"

"Not the time, Mikey." Raphael told his youngest brother. But he didn't hit Michelangelo over the head. He was preoccupied with removing his belt. He handed it to Tawny.

"Right..." she said uncertainly. She looked at it, confused, then tied it around her arm, just above her elbow.

"What are you doing?" Raphael asked,

"Well, unless you have local anesthetic, I'm doing what I can to reduce feeling." she replied, "Why? What am I supposed to do?" she asked this in a very tired, irritated voice. After nearly fifteen years of fending for yourself, Raphael supposed that any genuine concern and affection might be annoying. The turtles felt a pang of pity for Tawny. None of them liked being babied over, but they still appreciated help when they were injured. But Tawny...the closest thing she had to family were her masters. Though they were kind enough, they didn't really come across as _loving_ - at least from what Tawny had told them. It was truly quite sad when the slightest bit of kindness confused you.

"We meant for you to bite down on it whilst I stitch you up." Donatello told her. Tawny looked at the belt apprehensively, but shrugged. She batted away Donatello's hand when he made to assist her in removing the belt, and pulled it off using her right hand. She eyed it with mild concern, then put it in her mouth.

"_UGH_!" she exclaimed, spitting it out immediately, "Tastes like leather and sweat!" she cried, gagging.

"What did you expect?" Raphael asked incredulously, picking it up, "It's made of leather, and I train in it."

"Do you _wash _it?" she asked,

"Er...no." he admitted. The only actual garment that required washing was Splinter's robe, which was casually thrown in with April's laundry every few weeks. Raphael could not remember a single occasion on which he had actually washed his belt. "No, I don't wash it."

"And you let me_ put it in my **mouth**_?" she exclaimed, "Consider yourself lucky that I punch with my left fist." she said furiously. But there was hint of amusement in her own eyes, a hint that took away most of the seriousness from the threat.

"So I guess you _don't_ want to bite down on it?" Donatello asked, smiling mildly,

"I think I'll just scream instead." Tawny said flatly,

Raphael took his belt back from her, "Suit yourself." he said, retying it around his waist.

Carefully, Donatello dipped the cloth into the water and cleaned the congealed blood from the gash. The water in the bucket was instantly pink when he dripped the cloth in a second time. He then unscrewed the rubbing alcohol bottle, and looked at Tawny for permission. Looking slightly nervous, she nodded, and Donatello poured the alcohol on her wound.

Her reaction was instantaneous. Tawny did not scream, but she groaned very loudly through gritted teeth. Her right fist clenched in Donatello's lap, as the alcohol covered her injury, sterilising it. In the haze of pain, she vaguely noted her left hand grabbing the thing closest to it and holding it tightly. Unfortunately for Raphael, that was his left arm. Michelangelo would have sniggered at his brother's expression had he not been concerned for Tawny. She may not have screamed, but it might have been better if she did.

Finally, mercifully, Donatello was satisfied with the sterilisation of Tawny's wound, he handed the bottle to Mikey, who closed it. Breathing heavily, Tawny unclenched her fists, and let go of Raphael's arm. She looked at his forearm, and, judging from the way he was holding it, there would be bruising.

"Sorry." she said through gritted teeth, "My bad."

"I thought you said you'd stitched up a wound before." he remarked,

"Didn't say I _enjoyed_ it." she told him, still through gritted teeth, as her jaw was still firmly closed, "Not to mention, I usually use whiskey, hurts less." she muttered this under her breath, but they still heard her. She turned to Donatello, and said, not unkindly, "Now are you going to stitch me up or what?"

"Are you sure you don't want something to bite down on?" he asked,

"I've already lost some blood, Brooklyn." she said, smiling wryly, "I don't want to lose my lunch too." It seemed that even pain and injury couldn't deter Tawny from making cynical and sarcastic remarks. She was more like Raphael than he gave her credit for. She breathed deeply as Donatello threading the needle.

"You ready?" he asked,

"Since you won't let me stitch it up _myself_, I guess I am." she replied. Still in that same tired voice, but with less protest - however that may have just been because of the pain.

Unfortunately for Tawny, the rubbing alcohol had done nothing but sterilise the wound. The turtles had no anesthetic, which meant that when the needle first entered Tawny's arm, she felt the full extent of the pain. She tried her best not to cry out, however, it seemed that some sound was intent on escaping. The resulting noise was a sort of garbled groan, rather like she was screaming underwater. Donatello did his best to ignore Tawny's cries of pain and focused on stitching her up as quick as was safely possible. His stitches were small and neat, and, thankfully, within three minutes he was done.

"It's okay." he said soothingly, noticing that, among other things, Tawny's eyes were tightly closed (as was her right fist around Raphael's arm...again) and a few tears had squeezed their way out down her cheeks. She unclenched both her hands, and breathed heavily. "The worst part is over."

She muttered something under her breath, it sounded like '_Oh, thank God._'

"Next time..." she said breathlessly, "Let me stitch it up myself...gives me something to concentrate on, besides the pain."

"I vote we let her." said Raphael, cradling his arm, "That way, she ain't gonna be able to give me a dead arm."

"Aw, toughen up." Donatello said dismissively, reaching for the bandages. He wound the white gauze over and around Tawny's stitched wound. It looked considerably better already, clean and stitched neatly, but bandages would stop any infection, and also make it less likely for the stitches to break. Once Donatello was finished, Tawny looked as though she was wearing a white training-brace on her arm. It reminded her of when her masters had first taken her in, and given her a pair for her arms. Only those ones had been dark brown.

"Thanks, Donnie." she said, flexing her arm experimentally. Donatello took her arm gently and set it down.

"Try not to move it until it's healed." he said,

"I'll try my best." she said, but all three turtles knew that she was lying, she would be scaling walls and jumping over roofs as soon as she was out of their sight.

"Damn right you will." Donatello replied, "Because you're staying here tonight."

"What?" Tawny exclaimed, "Guys, I'm _fine_!" she cried,

"I just want to keep an eye on you." Donatello continued, "Tomorrow morning, you'll be free to go."

"I'm free to go _now_." Tawny said, picking up her duffel bag and making towards the door. She didn't get very far, for as soon as she had stood, Donatello had glanced at Raphael, who had promptly stood up himself. Without a word, the turtle in the red mask had made his way to the girl, (who had her back to him) and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. Again.

Tawny complained huffily as he sat her back down on the sofa. There was a long pause as Donatello looked at her with an expression that seemed to say _you were saying?_

"_Fine_." Tawny said loudly, "**_ONE_ **night."

* * *

That night, however grudging her initial outlook on it, was one that Tawny enjoyed immensely.

She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten at a table with more than one person, and actually _talked_. On the rare occasion that she had eaten with her masters, she had always dined in complete and absolute silence.

The Hamato family were nothing like that.

It seemed that pizza was the usual order for dinner, judging by the large trash can in the kitchen, but that by no means meant the turtles were not enthusiastic about it. There was a loud cheer - which Tawny found hilarious, for it was genuinely a _cheer_ - when Leonardo turned up with several boxes of the Italian delicacy. For the turtles and Splinter, t always took a while to order pizza, as it involved posing as a stranger, and actually _waiting_ in the parlour for the pizza to be made. This more or less explained Leonardo's absence earlier.

Leonardo handed out the boxes to his family. Once he noticed Tawny, a look of surprise and confusion crossed his features. Both these expressions increased significantly once he saw the white bandage on her left forearm.

"What happened?" he asked, the concern in his voice prominent,

Tawny shrugged nonchalantly, "I was keeping up my side of the bargain." she said,

"I meant to your _arm_." he pressed,

"I know." she replied, "Just an FYI, the Foot have a new scientist, and the weapons he's developing are pretty vicious."

"Y'think?" Donatello exclaimed from across the room, his mouth full of ham-and-pineapple pizza. His eyes bugged as he swallowed painfully and quickly to continue talking, "It'd have to be pretty fast to catch a samurai and pierce their arm."

"It went _through_ your arm?" Leonardo asked, eyes wide,

"No." she answered, "It went between the bones though, so it didn't take too long to get the blade out."

Upon hearing this, the mouths of the turtles fell open.

"The blade was _in_ your arm?" came Donatello's voice. As per the norm when he was near-hysterical, it was a few octaves higher than usual.

"Not for long." she said, "And don't you hope that the blade snaps off in battle. It only broke because I sliced it with my tantō."

"Well you're not going to be doing anything like _that_ anytime soon." Donatello remarked, in a tone not unlike a father saying no-you-are-_not_-staying-out-after-ten-with-_him _"You have to let your arm heal a bit."

Tawny scowled, rather like a child being told they can't have ice cream before dinner. Her eyes wandered to her duffel bag longingly, "I can still play, right?" she asked,

"Play what?" asked Michelangelo, "Video games?"

"No. My violin." she corrected, "I still need to earn a living, y'know. Food isn't free."

"Accommodation ain't either." Raphael pointed out,

Tawny waved that statement away, "I know, that's _way_ too expensive, so I don't bother."

Donatello made a sound halfway between a choke and a squawk - mostly because he was halfway through eating a slice of pizza. "There is no _way_ I'm letting you sleep on the streets with a slashed arm!" he cried,

"Contrary to what you may believe, I'm _not_ an idiot, Donnie." Tawny said indignantly, "I'm going to stay in the Nexus. But no matter where I stay, I need to earn money for food. So, I ask again, is my arm good to play?"

"Depends." he replied, "Could you give us a quick demonstration?"

"Sure." she said. Quickly, she finished the slice of pizza she was holding, and rinsed her hands in the sink. Then she opened her duffel bag. She pulled out a small violin case and unbuckled it. Inside was the same violin Raphael and Michelangelo had seen in her Nexus home, complete with a bow, a shoulder-rest, a lump of resin and a battery-powered tuner. She unwrapped the resin from it's own little cloth and rubbed it up and down the bow. She then clipped on the rest and knocked the violin onto her shoulder. Donatello noted that it was her _left_ shoulder - meaning that her left forearm would be doing very little.

She gently placed the bow onto the strings, and started to play a tune. At first it was slow and simple - yet still upbeat. Then, it began to quicken, the music becoming more frisky, and they realised that it was an Irish reel tune; joyful and lively and very pleasant to the ear. Tawny's eyes focused entirely on the four strings before her, her fingers moving with a practiced speed across them. The four turtles (and even Splinter in his dojo) found themselves tapping their feet or their fingers in time with the beat, and Michelangelo had to actually fight the urge to dance. It was a wonderful piece, probably meant for weddings, for large groups of people to dance to together.

However, halfway into the song, Tawny tried to move her hand so she could play in (what is known to violinists as) "3rd position" which involved moving her hand up the finger-board so her index finger was in the place where her third finger would normally go. The sharp movement that this quick tune required was too much for her arm, for before, she had only been moving her wrist to switch from one strong to the other. As soon as she moved her arm down the board, she groaned and winced, her hands reflexively letting go of both the violin and the bow.

Several things happened in the next instant.

Tawny looked through the pain at her violin, watching it fall to the floor. The expression in her eyes said that she knew it would break beyond repair on the hard stone ground. Donatello stood up abruptly in concern, eyes scanning Tawny's bandage for signs of blood. Leonardo and Raphael watched with a brotherly concern as she groaned, but even they were too slow to do anything about her violin.

But Michelangelo, who had the most raw talent, who had the fastest reflexes, saw the look in Tawny's eyes, and dove forwards. He caught the violin in his hands a mere instant before it hit the ground.

Tawny breathed a sigh of relief once she saw Michelangelo holding her believed instrument. She picked it up with her right hand and turned to him,

"Thank you." she said earnestly,

"No problem." he said, grinning crookedly. He handed Tawny the violin and she carefully put it away. From the way her hands caressed the wood, it was obviously something she treasured dearly.

"So..." she turned back to Donatello, "Can I play?"

He pondered for a moment, but there was really no point, it was obvious that Tawny would play, regardless of what he said. This was merely a pleasantry. However, it was nice that she did _somewhat_ care about what he thought.

"As long as you don't do the...moving your hand thing." he eventually said,

"3rd position." she said bluntly, "I thought you were the smart one." she remarked.

"Watch it missy, or I might cut your stitches." Donatello replied, grinning,

"I'd like to see you try." Tawny grinned back, picking up another slice of pizza.

Just then, Splinter decided to come put of his dojo. His hunger was too great for even meditation to distract him, so he had taken that as a sign to take some pizza whilst there was still some left. The turtles were usually smart enough to leave some for their sensei, but on one or two occasions, Michelangelo or Raphael had been too hungry to realise that there was none left.

Tawny's hand (complete with slice of pizza) was halfway to her mouth when she saw the rat emerge from his small sanctuary. She barely seemed to notice that Michelangelo had taken advantage of her distraction, and taken said slice of pizza straight from her hand, earning a slap upside the head from Raphael.

"There's _more_!" Michelangelo pointed out, "Besides, not like she noticed." he muttered to himself as he took another slice from a box.

Splinter smiled warmly upon noticing Tawny staring at him. He made his way over to the group and sat down on the sofa, next to the awestruck girl. After taking a slice for himself, he addressed her.

"You must be Miss Tawny." he said,

It seemed to take Tawny a minute to find her voice. "Y-yes I am." she said, her tone full of awe, "It is...an _honour_ to meet you, Splinter-sama."

The four turtles were slightly taken aback at this. Almost everyone knew the general address of _insert-name-here_-san, for those who you respected, but they had never met someone who was not Japanese, who knew the address for those above your status, or those whom you held very high in opinion. This address was the aforementioned _sama_.

Splinter seemed a little surprised at this too, and almost immediately replied. "You need not call me Splinter-sama. Splinter will do just fine." he said kindly, "And may I say it is wonderful to finally meet the girl whom my sons talk of so often."

Tawny looked around to the turtles, eyes wide. _They talk about me?_ she wondered, _what do they say?_ But she soon returned her attention to Splinter. "If it is alright with you, I would prefer to address you as Splinter-sama." she said, slightly sheepishly, "I was raised to respect my superiors."

"As you wish, Miss Tawny." Splinter replied, and there was a pause, "How is your arm? I trust Donatello has stitched it up properly?"

"He has, Splinter-sama." Tawny replied. Suddenly she felt very awkward, like she was intruding on the family. As a result, she started to drop out of the conversation, and moved to the end of the sofa, somewhat isolated from the group. She watched, almost sadly as they chatted, laughed and smiled. They wre a family. Something that, even if she found Luke, she could never really have.

She had known for a long time that staying with Luke, once she had found him, was not an option. She was a constant target for the Foot, as she didn't wear the mask to hid herself from them - they already knew full well who she was - she wore it to hide from potential bystanders. She was never safe, that's why she slept on the streets, or in the Nexus where they couldn't find her. Once she found Luke, she was giving him over to their aunt. Her mother's sister. Aunt Rose lived in Kent, where she (and Tawny's mother) had been born and raised. Tawny's mother - Madeline - had moved to London when she was in her late-teens-slash-early-twenties so as to attend university. Madeline had met the charismatic and American John Strider whilst attending university. In fact, that was _why_ Tawny and her family had moved to New York. New York had been John's childhood home, place of birth, and, most recently, the location of an excellent job offer that had resulted in Tawny's relocation to the USA. But Aunt Rose had stayed in Kent. And Aunt Rose was safe. She would keep Luke safe too, away from the Foot, and Tawny would stay in New York. She was not cut out for family life, fourteen years of living and training as a samurai had gotten rid of any hope for something so..._civilian_. Domestic life would be torture for Tawny - in more ways than one. Tawny would stay in New York and continue to fight the Foot, whilst Luke would be safe with their aunt. The most key part to this plot was that Luke never found out who his rescuer was. Tawny needed to stay dead if she was to stay in NYC.

"Tawny, you okay?" came Leonardo's voice, cutting through tawny's rendition of her plan. He was sat closest to her, and whilst the others were immersed in a story that Michelangelo was telling, Leonardo had bee slightly bored, and so his gaze had wandered to Tawny.

"I'm fine, Leonardo." she said,

He half-smiled gently, "You _can_ call me Leo, y'know." he said,

"Can I though?" she asked, "If I hadn't gotten stabbed through the arm, I wouldn't be here. And frankly, I wish I wasn't."

"Why's that?" he asked,

"I'm...I'm an intruder on your family." she said, "I don't belong here. I'm just an ally, and...and I feel like I'm overstepping my grounds."

Leonardo, despite himself, chuckled. Tawny looked at him, her expression concerned and incredulous.

"Sorry." he said, still smiling, "But that's insane."

"What do you mean?" Tawny asked, her tone defensive.

"If we _really_ didn't want you here, we would have taken you to the hospital. Don stitched you up himself because he wanted to be there to make sure you were okay. Raph took you back here because he felt the same. And Mikey...well, Mikey just likes people." he paused, and looked at her earnestly, "You're not overstepping your bounds, Tawny. It's no big thing to call me Leo. I mean, you call Raph 'Brooklyn', right?"

Tawny shrugged, "That's more habit than anything else." she said,

"Well it's a good habit." Leonardo told her,

"And why's that?"

"You're our friend, right?" he asked. And this had a great deal more weight to it than first seemed. Tawny had explicitly stated to her master that she was fairly confident that the turtles did not care about her. But now...Leonardo, the one who had been least inclined to even _like_ her, was calling her his friend...

"Yeah, I guess I am." she replied, smiling slightly,

Leonardo smiled back, "Well, you refer to your friends with nicknames." he said simply, "You can't really abbreviate 'Tawny', but you can abbreviate _our_ names."

"Would you like me to?" she asked. This, most of all, marked her as socially awkward. She rarely dealt with humans that weren't hostile, and fourteen years of living as a student, and a student only, added up. But Leonardo smiled at her, because, for the first time, he was seeing Tawny without her sarcasm and quips - they weren't necessarily a bad thing, but now he could see her genuinely. And she was nice.

A little broken, but nice.

"Yeah, I would." he told her. Because he felt the same thing she did - a protective, platonic, brotherly love for a girl who was more similar to him than he had first realised.

"Okay, then, _Leo_," she said, smiling, "Care to tell me what Michelan- what Mikey is talking about?"

"I would if I could." he replied, grinning widely, "But I have absolutely no clue."

Nonetheless, Tawny scooched back up the sofa so she was once more part of the group. And as she ate, chatted, laughed and joked with the four turtles, Splinter smiled and looked at her sideways. The last of his four sons had accepted this girl as their sister, and he was pleased. He had known from the instant he had first seen her that she had no proper family. Usgai and her masters did not count - Splinter knew them, and they may have been kind to house an train her, but he doubted they had ever shown any affection beyond a pet name (that, incidentally, had been completely accidental, and not intended as a pet name at all). In short, he was heartened to see such a sad and lonely girl smile.

* * *

That night, as the four turtles, the rat, and the girl slept, the lair was quiet.

Not scarily quiet, for you could still hear Raphael's snores, Donatello's murmurings of scientific jargon and Michelangelo's rather adorable snuffles, but it was quiet. The night was peaceful, Splinter dreaming, as he almost always did, of his families - Yoshi and Tang Shen, and his four sons. Raphael was dreaming of his brothers - safe and happy. Donatello was dreaming of advanced technology - and drooling slightly. Michelangelo's mind was filled with comic book characters and superheroes.

Leonardo was still awake late into the night, ears cocked for any signs of disturbance, but mostly he was in a meditative trance. Nothing of any particular noteworthiness happened, except for one thing:

Tawny's dreams, for once, were not nightmares. Her jaw was not clenched in fear, her hands not balled into terrified fists. Her mind was free from the usual tortures that plagued her in the night. Normally she dreaded sleeping - to her it was simply hours of watching those she loved die. At first, it had been just her parents and Luke. Then her masters had joined the death toll, and, after they accepted her offer in the Nexus, so had the turtles.

But tonight she was free from these images. Her dreams were as peculiar and irrelevant as anyone's, and she even had a slight smile on her face. Her terrors had always been less prominent in the Nexus, but she so often slept on New York's streets that it didn't particularly matter. But in the turtles' lair, she could almost sleep normally.

Leonardo finished his meditation, and then went to sleep. He, like Raphael and Splinter, dreamt about his family too - practising his sparring with Raphael, aiding Donatello with his projects, playing a video game with Michelangelo, meditating with Splinter...

...him and his brothers dancing to Tawny's violin music.


End file.
